

Ronk C 1 & ^ 








THE LITTLEPAGE MANUSCRIPTS. 


B Y 




I M 0 R E 



COOPER. 



“The only amaranthine flower on earth, 
is virtue: the only treasure, truth.” — Spenser, 


COMPLETE IE ONE VOLUME. 


NEW EDITION. 


NEW YORK: 

STRINGER AND TOWNSEND 


1856 . 



SATANSTOE. 

♦ 


Entered, according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1845, by 


J. FENIMO.RE COOPER 

in the clerk’s office of the District Court for the Northern District 

of New York. 


PREFACE. 


Every chronicle of manners has a certain value. 
When customs are connected with principles, in their 
origin, development, or end, such records have a 
double importance ; and it is because we think we 
see such a connection between the facts and inci- 
dents of the Littlepage Manuscripts, and certain 
important theories of our own time, that we give the 
former to the world. 

It is perhaps a fault of your professed historian, to 
refer too much to philosophical agencies, and too lit- 
tle to those that are humbler. The foundations of 
great events, are often remotely laid in very capri- 
cious and uncalculated passions, motives, or im- 
pulses. Chance has usually as much to do with the 
fortunes of states, as with those of individuals ; or, 
if there be calculations connected with them at all, 
they are the calculations of a power superior to any 
that exists in man. 

We had been led to lay these Manuscripts before 
the world, partly by considerations of the above na- 
ture, and partly on account of the manner in which 
the two works we have named, “ Satanstoe” and the 
“ Chainbearer,” relate directly to the great New 
York question of the day, anti-rentism ; which ques- 
tion will be found to be pretty fully laid bare, in the 
third and last book of the series. These three works, 

1 * (5) 


VI 


PREFACE. 


which contain all the Littlepage Manuscripts, do not 
form sequels to each other, in the sense of personal 
histories, or as narratives ; while they do in that of 
principles. The reader will see that the early career, 
the attachment, the marriage, &c. of Mr. Cornelius 
Littlepage are completely related in the present book, 
for instance ; while those of his son, Mr. Mordaunt 
Littlepage, will be just as fully given in the “ Chain- 
bearer , 1 ” its successor. It is hoped that the connec- 
tion, which certainly does exist between these three 
works, will have more tendency to increase the value 
of each, than to produce the ordinary effect of what 
are properly called sequels, which are known to 
lessen the interest a narrative might otherwise have 
with the reader. Each of these three books has its 
own hero, its own heroine, and its own picture of 
manners, complete ; though the latter may be, and 
is, more or less thrown into relief by its pendants. 

We conceive no apology is necessary for treating 
the subject of anti-rentism with the utmost frank- 
ness. Agreeably to our views of the matter, the ex- 
istence of true liberty among us, the perpetuity of 
the institutions, and the safety of public morals, are 
all dependent on putting down, wholly, absolutely, 
and unqualifiedly, the false and dishonest theories 
and statements that have been boldly advanced in 
connection with this subject. In our view, New 
York is, at this moment, much the most disgraced 
state in the Union, notwithstanding she has never 
failed to pay the interest on her public debt ; and her 
disgrace arises from the fact that her laws are tram- 
pled under foot, without any efforts, at all commen- 
surate with the object, being made to enforce them 


PREFACE. 


Vll 


If words and professions can save the character of a 
community, all may yet be well ; but if states, like 
individuals, are to be judged by their actions, and 
the “tree is to be known by its fruit,” God help us ! 

For ourselves, we conceive that true patriotism 
consists in laying bare everything like public vice, 
and in calling such things by their right names. 
The great enemy of the race has made a deep inroad 
upon us, within the last ten or a dozen years, under 
cover of a spurious delicacy on the subject of ex- 
posing national ills; and it is time that they who 
have not been afraid to praise, when praise was me- 
rited, should not shrink from the office of censuring, 
when the want of timely warnings may be one cause 
of the most fatal evils. The great practical defect 
of institutions like ours, is the circumstance that 
“ what is everybody’s business, is nobody’s business 
a neglect that gives to the activ ity of the rogue a 
very dangerous ascendency over the more dilatory 
correctives of the honest man. 






















* 




























































SATANSTOE. 


CHAPTER I. 

“ Look you, 

Who comes here : a young man, and an old, in solemn talk.” 

.As You Like It. 

It is easy to foresee that this country is destined to un- 
dergo great and rapid changes. 'Those that more properly 
belong to history, history will doubtless attempt to record, 
and probably with the questionable veracity and prejudice 
that are apt to influence the labours of that particular muse ; 
but there is little hope that any traces of American society, 
in its more familiar aspects, will be preserved among us, 
through any of the agencies usually employed for such pur- 
poses. Without a stage, in a national point of view at least, 
with scarcely such a thing as a book of memoirs that relate? 
to a life passed within our own limits, and totally withoiA 
light literature, to give us simulated pictures of our manners 
and the opinions of the day, I see scarcely a mode by which the 
next generation can preserve any memorials of the distinctive 
usages and thoughts of this. It is true, they will have tra- 
ditions of certain leading features of the colonial society, 
but scarcely any records ; and, should the next twenty years 
do as much as the last, towards substituting an entirely new 
race for the descendants of our own immediate fathers, it is 
scarcely too much to predict that even these traditions will 
be lost in the whirl and excitement of a throng of strangers. 
Under all the circumstances, therefore, I have come to a de- 
termination to make an effort, however feeble it may prove, 
to preserve some vestiges of household life in New York, 
at least; while I have endeavoured to stimulate certain 
friends in New Jersey, and farther south, to undertake simi- 
lar tasks in those sections of the country. What success 

( 9 ) 


10 


S AT ANSTOE. 


will attend these last applications, is more than I can say ; 
but, in order that the little I may do myself shall not be lost 
for want of support, I have made a solemn request in my 
will, that those who come after me will consent to continuo 
this narrative, committing to paper their own experience, as 
I have here committed mine, down as low at least as my 
grandson, if I ever have one. Perhaps, by the end of the 
latter’s career, they will begin to publish books in America, 
and the fruits of our joint family labours may be thought 
sufficiently matured to be laid before the world. 

It is possible that which I am now about to write will be 
thought too homely, to relate to matters much too personal 
and private, to have sufficient interest for the public eye ; 
but it must be remembered that the loftiest interests of man 
are made up of a collection of those that are lowly; and, 
that he who makes a faithful picture of only a single im- 
portant scene in the events of single life, is doing something 
towards painting the greatest historical piece of his day. 
As I have said before, the leading events of my time will 
find their way into the pages of far more pretending works 
than this of mine, in some form or other, with more or less 
of fidelity to the truth, and real events, and real motives ; 
while the humbler matters it will be my office to record, 
will be entirely overlooked by writers who aspire to enrol 
their names among the Tacituses of former ages. It may 
be well to say here, however, I shall not attempt the histo- 
rical mood at all, but content myself with giving the feelings, 
incidents, and interests of what is purely private life, con- 
necting them no farther with things that are of a more 
general nature, than is indispensable to render the narrative 
intelligible and accurate. With these explanations, which 
are made in order to prevent the person who may happen 
first to commence the perusal of this manuscript from throw- 
ing it into the fire, as a silly attempt to write a more silly 
fiction, I shall proceed at once to the commencement of my 
proper task. 

I was born on the 3d May, 1737, on a neck of land, called 
Satanstoe, in the county of West Chester, and in the 
colony of New York ; a part of the widely extended empire 
that then owned the sway of His Sacred Majesty, George II., 
King of Great Britain, Ireland, and France; Defender 


S AT ANSTOE. 


11 


of the Faith ; and, I may add, the shield and panoply of the 
Protestant Succession; God bless him! Before I say 
anything of my parentage, I will first give the reader some 
idea of the locus in quo , and a more precise notion of the 
spot on which I happened first to see the light. 

A “neck,” in West Chester and Long Island parlance, 
means something that might be better termed a “ head and 
shoulders,” if mere shape and dimensions are kept in view. 
Peninsula would be the true word, were we describing things 
on a geographical scale ; but, as they are, I find it neces- 
sary to adhere to the local term, which is not altogether 
peculiar to our county, by the way. The “ neck” or penin- 
sula of Satanstoe, contains just four hundred and sixty- 
three acres and a half of excellent West Chester land ; and 
that, when the stone is hauled and laid into wall, is saying 
as much in its favour as need be said of any soil on earth. 
It has two miles of beach, and collects a proportionate 
quantity of sea-weed for manure, besides enjoying near a 
hundred acres of salt-meadow and sedges, that are not in- 
cluded in the solid ground of the neck proper. As my 
father, Major Evans Litllepage, was to inherit this estate 
from his father, Capt. Hugh Littlepage, it might, even at the 
time of my birth, be considered old family property, it having 
indeed, been acquired by my grandfather, through his wife, 
about thirty years after the final cession of the colony to 
the English by its original Dutch owners. Here we had 
lived, then, near half a century, when I was born, in the 
direct line, and considerably longer if we included maternal 
ancestors ; here I now live, at the moment of writing these 
lines, and here I trust my only son is to live after me. 

Before I enter into a more minute description of Satans 
toe, it may be well, perhaps, to say a word concerning its 
somewhat peculiar name. The neck lies in the vicinity of 
a well-known pass that is to be found in the narrow arm of 
the sea that separates the island of Manhattan from its 
neighbour, Long Island, and which is called Hell Gate. 
Now, there is a tradition, that I confess is somewhat confined 
to the blacks of the neighbourhood, but which says that the 
Father of Lies, on a particular occasion, when he was vio- 
lently expelled from certain roystering taverns in the New 
Netherlands, made his exit by this well-known dangerous 


SAT ANSTOE. 


12 

pass, and drawing his foot somewhat hastily from among 
the lobster-pots that abound in those waters, leaving behind 
him as a print of his passage by that route, the Hog’s Back, 
the Pot, and all the whirlpools and rocks that render navi- 
gation so difficult in that celebrated strait, he placed it hur- 
riedly upon the spot where there now spreads a large bay 
to the southward and eastward of the neck, just touching 
the latter with the ball of his great toe, as he passed Down- 
East ; from which part of the country some of our people 
used to maintain he originally came. Some fancied resem- 
blance to an inverted toe (the devil being supposed to turn 
everything with which he meddles, upside-down,) has been 
imagined to exist in the shape and swells of our paternal 
acres ; a fact that has probably had its influence in perpetu- 
ating the name. 

Satanstoe has the place been called, therefore, from 
time immemorial ; as time is immemorial in a country in 
which civilized time commenced not a century and a half 
ago : and Satanstoe it is called to-day. I confess I am 
\ not fond of unnecessary changes, and I sincerely hope this 
neck of land will continue to go by its old appellation, as 
long as the House of Hanover shall sit on the throne of these 
realms ; or as long as water shall run and grass shall grow. 
There has been an attempt made to persuade the neighbour- 
hood, quite lately, that the name is irreligious and unworthy 
of an enlightened people, like this of West Chester ; but it 
has met with no great success. It has come from a Con- 
necticut man, whose father they say is a clergyman of the 
“ standing order so called, I believe, because they stand 
up at prayers ; and who came among us himself in the cha- 
racter of a schoolmaster. This young man, I understand, 
has endeavoured to persuade the neighbourhood that Satans- 
toe is a corruption introduced by the Dutch, from Devil’s 
Town; which, in its turn, was a corruption from Dibbleston ; 
the family from which my grandfather’s father-in-law pur- 
chased having been, as he says, of the name of Dibblee. 
He has got half-a-dozen of the more sentimental part of our 
society to call the neck Dibbleton ; but the attempt is not 
likely to succeed in the long run, as we are not a people much 
given to altering the language, any more than the customs 
of our ancestors. Besides, my Dutch ancestors did not 


SATANSTOE. 


13 


purchase from any Dibblee, no such family ever owning the 
place, that being a bold assumption of the Yankee to make 
out his case the more readily. 

Satanstoe, as it is little more than a good farm in ex- 
tent, so it is little more than a particularly good farm in 
cultivation and embellishment. All the buildings are of 
stone, even to the hog-sties and sheds, with well-pointed 
joints, and field walls that would do credit to a fortified 
place. The house is generally esteemed one of the best in 
the Colony, with the exception of a few of the new school. 
It is of only a story and a half in elevation, I admit; but the 
rooms under the roof are as good as any of that description 
with which I am acquainted, and their finish is such as 
would do no discredit to the upper rooms of even a York 
dwelling. The building is in the shape of an L, or two 
sides of a parallelogram, one of which shows a front of 
seventy-five, and the other of fifty feet. Twenty-six feet 
make the depth, from outside to outside of the walls. The 
best room had a carpet, that covered two-thirds of the entire 
dimensions of the floor, even in my boyhood, and there were 
oil-cloths in most of the better passages. The buffet in the 
dining-room, or smallest parlour, was particularly admired ; 
and I question if there be, at this hour, a handsomer in the? 
county. The rooms were well-sized, and of fair dimen- 
sions, the larger parlours embracing the whole depth of the 
house, with proportionate widths, while the ceilings were 
higher than common, being eleven feet, if we except the 
places occupied by the larger beams of the chamber floors. 

As there was money in the family, besides the Neck, and 
the Littlepages had held the king’s commissions, my father 
having once been an ensign, and my grandfather a captain, 
in the regular army, each in the earlier portion of his life, 
we always ranked among the gentry of the county. We 
happened to be in a part of Westchester in which were none 
of the very large estates, and Satanstoe passed for property 
of a certain degree of importance. It is true, the Morrises 
were at Morrisania, and the Felipses, or Philipses, as these 
Bohemian counts were then called, had a manor on the 
Hudson, that extended within a dozen miles of us, and a 
younger branch of the de Lanceys had established itself 
even much nearer, while the Van Cortlandts, or a branch 
2 


14 


S AT ANSTOE. 


of them, too, dwelt near Kingsbridge ; but these were all 
people who were at the head of the Colony, and with whom 
none of the minor gentry attempted to vie. As it was, 
therefore, the Littlepages held a very respectable position 
between the higher class of the yeomanry and those who, 
by their estates, education, connections, official rank, and 
hereditary consideration, formed what might be justly 
called the aristocracy of the Colony. Both my father and 
grandfather had sat in the Assembly, in their time, and, as 
I have heard elderly people say, with credit, too. As for 
my father, on one occasion, he made a speech that occupied 
eleven minutes in the delivery, — a proof that he had some- 
thing to say, and which was a source of great, but, I trust, 
humble felicitation in the family, down to the day of his 
death, and even afterwards. 

Then the military services of the family stood us in for a 
great deal. In that day it was something to be an ensign 
even in the militia, and a far greater thing to have the same 
rank in a regular regiment. It is true, neither of my pre- 
decessors served very long with the King’s troops, my father 
in particular selling out ai the end of his second campaign ; 
but the military experience, and I may add the military 
glory each acquired in youth, did them good service for all 
the rest of their days. Both were commissioned in the 
militia, and my father actually rose as high as major in 
that branch of the service, that being the rank he held, and 

the title he bore, for the last fifteen years of his life. 

J * # 

My mother was of Dutch extraction on both sides, her 
father having been aBlauvelt, and her mother a Van Busser. 
I have heard it said that there was even a relationship be- 
tween the Stuyvesants and the Van Corilandts, and the 
Van Bussers ; but I am not able to point out the actual 
degree and precise nature of the affinity. I presume it was 
not very near, or my information would have been more 
minute. I have always understood that my mother brought 
my father thirteen hundred pounds for dowry (currency, 
not sterling), which, it must be confessed, was a very genteel 
fortune for a young woman in 1733. Now, I very well 
know that six, eight, and ten thousand pounds sometimes 
fall in, in this manner, and even much more in the high 
families ; but no one need be ashamed, who looks back fifty 


SATANSTOE. 15 

years, and finds that his mother brought a thousand pounds 
to her husband. 

I was neither an only child, nor the eldest-born. There 
was a son who preceded me, and two daughters succeeded, 
but they all died in infancy, leaving me in effect the only 
offspring for my parents to cherish and educate. My little 
brother monopolised the name of Evans, and living for 
some time after I was christened, I got the Dutch appella- 
tion of my maternal grandfather, for my share of the family 
nomenclature, which happened to be Cornelius — Corny 
was consequently the diminutive by which I was known to 
ail the whites of my acquaintance, for the first sixteen or 
eighteen years of my life, and to my parents as long as 
they lived. Corny Littlepage is not a bad name, in itself, 
and I trust they who do me the favour to read this manu- 
script, will lay it down with the feeling that the name is 
none the worse for the use I have made of it. 

I have said that both my father and grandfather, each in 
his day, sat in the assembly ; my father twice, and my 
grandfather only once. Although we lived so near the 
borough of W est Chester, it was not for that place they sat, 
but for the county, the de Lanceys and the Morrises con- 
tending for the control of the borough, in a way that left 
little chance for the smaller fishes to swim in the troubled 
water they were so certain to create. Nevertheless, this 
political elevation brought my father out, as it might be, 
before the world, and was the means of giving him a per- 
sonal consideration he might not have otherwise enjoyed. 
The benefits, and possibly some of the evils of thus being 
drawn out from the more regular routine of our usually 
peaceable lives, may be made to appear in the course of this 
narrative. 

I have ever considered myself fortunate in not having 
been born in the earlier and infant days of the colony, 
when the interests at stake, and the events by which they 
were influenced, were not of a magnitude to give the mind 
and the hopes the excitement and enlargement that attend 
the periods of a more advanced civilization, and of more 
important incidents. In this respect, my own appearance 
in this world was most happily timed, as any one will see 
who will consider the state and importance of the colony in 


16 


SATAN STOE. 


the middle of the present century. New York could no- 
have contained many less than seventy thousand souls, in- 
cluding both colours, at the time of my birth, for it is sup- 
posed to contain quite a hundred thousand this day on 
which I am now writing. In such a community, a man 
has not only the room, but the materials on which to figure; 
whereas, as I have often heard him say, my father, when 
he was born, was one of less than half of the smallest 
number I have just named. I have been grateful for this 
advantage, and I trust it will appear, by evidence that will 
be here afforded, that I have not lived -in a quarter of the 
world, or in an age, when and where, and to which great 
events have been altogether strangers. 

My earliest recollections, as a matter of course, are of 
Satanstoe and the domestic fireside. In my childhood and 
youth, I heard a great deal said of the Protestant Succession, 
the House of Hanover, and King George II. ; all mixed up 
with such names as those of George Clinton, Gen. Monckton, 
Sir Charles Hardy, James de Lancey, and Sir Danvers 
Osborne, his official representatives in the colony. Every 
age has its old and its last wars, and I can well remember 
that which occurred between the French in the Canadas 
and ourselves, in 1744. I was then seven years old, and it 
was an event to make an impression on a child of that 
tender age. My honoured grandfather was then living, as 
he was long afterwards, and he took a strong interest in the 
military movements of the period, as was natural for an 
old soldier. New York had no connection with the cele- 
brated expedition that captured Louisbourg, then the Gibral- 
tar of America, in 1745 ; but this could not prevent an old 
soldier like Capt. Littlepage from entering into the affair 
with all his heart, though forbidden to use his hand. As 
the reader may not be aware of all the secret springs that 
set public events in motion, it may be well here to throw in 
a few words in the way of explanation. 

There was and is little sympathy, in the way of national 
feeling, between the colonies of New England and those 
which lie farther south. We are all loyal, those of the 
east as well as those of the south-west and south ; but there 
is, and ever has been, so wide a difference in our customs, 
origins, religious opinions, and histories, as to cause a broad 


SATANSTOE. 17 

moral line, in the way of feeling, to be drawn between the 
colony of New York and those that lie east of the Byram 
river. I have heard it said that most of the emigrants to 
the New England states came from the west of England, 
where many of their social peculiarities and much of their 
language are still to be traced, while the colonies farther 
south have received their population from the more central 
counties, and those sections of the island that are supposed 
to be less provincial and peculiar. I do not affirm that such 
is literally the fact, though it is well known that we of New 
York have long been accustomed to regard our neighbours 
of New England as very different from ourselves, whilst, I 
dare say, our neighbours of New England have regarded 
us as different from themselves, and insomuch removed 
from perfection. 

Let all this be as it may, it is certain New England is a 
portion of the empire that is set apart from the rest, for 
good or for evil. It got its name from the circumstance 
that the English possessions were met, on its western 
boundary, by those of the Dutch, who were thus separated 
from the other colonies of purely Anglo-Saxon origin, by 
a wide district that was much larger in surface than the 
mother country itself. I am afraid there is something in 
the character of these Anglo-Saxons that predisposes them 
to laugh and turn up their noses at other races ; for I have 
remarked that the natives of the parent land itself, who 
come among us, show this disposition even as it respects 
us of New York and those of New England, while the 
people of the latter region manifest a feeling towards us, 
their neighbours, that partakes of anything but the humil- 
ity that is thought to grace that Christian character to which 
they are particularly fond of laying claim. 

My grandfather was a native of the old country, however, 
and he entered but little into the colonial jealousies. He 
had lived from boyhood, and had married in New York, and 
was not apt to betray any of the overweening notions of 
superiority that we sometimes encountered in native-born 
Englishmen, though I can remember instances in which he 
would point out the defects in our civilization, and others in 
which he dwelt with pleasure on the grandeur and power 
t>f his own island. I dare say this was all right, foi few 

o # 


among us have ever been disposed to dispute the just 
supremacy of England in all things that are desirable, and 
which form the basis of human excellence. 

I well remember a journey Capt. Hugh Littlepage made 
to Boston, in 1745, in order to look at the preparations that 
were making for the great expedition. Although his own 
colony had no connection with this enterprise, in a military 
point of view, his previous service rendered him an object 
of interest to the military men then assembled along the 
coast of New England. It has been said the expedition 
against Louisbourg, then the strongest place in America, 
was planned by a lawyer, led by a merchant, and executed * 
by husbandmen and mechanics; but this, though true as a 
whole, was a rule that had its exceptions. There were many 
old soldiers who had seen the service of this continent in 
the previous wars, and among them w r ere several of my 
grandfather’s former acquaintances. With these he passed 
many a cheerful hour, previously to the day of sailing, and 
I have often thought since, that my presence alone prevented 
him from making one in the fleet. The reader will think I 
was young, perhaps, to be so far from home on such an 
occasion, but it happened in this wise: My excellent mother 
thought I had come out of the small-pox with some symp- 
toms that might be benefited by a journey, and she pre- 
vailed on her father-in-law to let me be of the party when 
he left home to visit Boston in the winter of 1744-5. At 
that early day moving about was not always convenient in 
these colonies, and my grandfather travelling in a sleigh 
that was proceeding east with some private stores that had 
been collected for the expedition, it presented a favourable 
opportunity to send me along with my venerable progenitor, 
who very good-naturedly consented to let me commence my 
travels under his own immediate auspices. 

The things I saw on this occasion have had a material 
influence on my future life. I got a love of adventure, and 
particularly of military parade and grandeur, that has since 
led me into more than one difficulty. Capt. Hugh Little- 
page, my grandfather, was delighted with all he saw until 
after the expedition had sailed, when he began to grumble 
on the subject of the religious observances that the piety of 
*’'* p, ”’itans blended with most of their other movements 


S AT ANSTOE. 


19 


On the score of religion there was a marked difference; f 
may say there is still a marked difference between New 
England and New York. The people of New England 
certainly did, and possibly may still, look upon us of New 
York as little better than heathens ; while we of New York 
assuredly did, and for anything I know to the contrary 
may yet, regard them as canters, and by necessary connec- 
tion, hypocrites. I shall not take it on myself to say which 
party is right ; though it has often occurred to my mind that 
it would be better had New England a little less self- 
righteousness, and New York a little more righteousness, 
without the self. Still, in the way of pounds, shillings and 
pence, we will not turn our backs upon them any day, being 
on the whole rather the most trustworthy of the two as 
respects money ; more especially in all such cases in which 
our neighbour’s goods can be appropriated without having 
recourse to absolutely direct means. Such, at any rate, is 
the New York opinion, let them think as they please about 
it on the other side of Byram. 

My grandfather met an old fellow-campaigner, at Boston, 
of the name of Hight, Major Hight, as he was called, who 
had come to see the preparations, too ; and the old soldiers 
passed most of the time together. The Major was a Jersey- 
man, and had been somewhat of a free-liver in his time, 
retaining some of the propensities of his youth in old age, 
as is apt to be the case with those who cultivate a vice as 
if it were a hot- house plant. The Major was fond of his 
bottle, drinking heavily of Madeira, of which there was 
then a good stock in Boston, for he brought some on him- 
self; and I can remember various scenes that occurred be- 
tween him and my grandfather, after dinner, as they sat 
discoursing in the tavern on the progress of things, and the 
prospects for the future. Had these two old soldiers been 
of the troops of the province in which they were, it would 
have been “ Major” and “ Captain” at every breath ; for no 
part of the earth is fonder of titles than our eastern brethren ;* 
whereas, I must think we had some claims to more true 
simplicity of character and habits, notwithstanding New 

* It will be remembered Mr. Littlepage wrote more than seventy 
years ago* when this distinction might exclusively belong to the East ; 
tut the West has now some claim to it, also. 


20 


SATANSTOE. 


York has ever been thought the most aristocratical of all 
the northern colonies. Having been intimate from early 
youth, my two old soldiers familiarly called each other Joey 
and Hodge, the latter being the abbreviation of one of my 
grandfather’s names, Roger, when plain Hugh was not 
used, as sometimes happened between them. Hugh Roger 
Littlepage, I ought to have said, was my grandfather’s 
name. 

“ I should like these Yankees better, if they prayed less, 
my old friend,” said the Major, one day, after they had been 
discussing the appearances of things, and speaking between 
the puffs of his pipe. “ I can see no great use in losing 
so much time, by making these halts to pray, when the cam- 
paign is fairly opened.” 

“ It was always their way, Joey,” my grandfather an- 
swered, taking his time, as is customary with smokers. “ I 
remember when we were out together, in the year ’17, that 
the New England troops always had their parsons, who 
acted as a sort of second colonels. They tell me His Ex- 
cellency has ordered a weekly fast, for public prayers, during 
the whole of this campaign.” 

“ Ay, Master Hodge, praying and plundering ; so they 
go on,” returned the Major, knocking the ashes out of his 
pipe, preparatory to filling it anew ; an employment that 
gave him an opportunity to give vent to his feelings, without 
pausing to puff. — “ Ay, Master Hodge, praying and plun- 
dering ; so they go on. Now, do you remember old Watson, 
who was in the Massachusetts Levies, in the year ’12 ? — old 
Tom Watson; he that was a sub under Barnwell, in our 
Tuscarora expedition ?” 

My grandfather nodded his head in assent, that being the 
only reply the avocation of smoking rendered convenient, 
just at that moment, unless a sort of afhrmatory grunt could 
be construed into an auxiliary. 

“ Well, he has a son going in this affair ; and old Tom, 
or Colonel Watson, as he is now very particular to be called, 
is down here with his wife and two daughters, to see the 
ensign off. I went to pay the old fellow a visit, Hodge ; and 
found him, and the mother and sisters, all as busy as bees 
in getting young Tom’s baggage ready for a march. There 


SATANSTOE. 21 

lay his whole equipment before my eyes, and I had a favour- 
able occasion to examine it at my leisure.” 

“ Which you did with all your might, or you ’re not the 
Joe Hight of the year ’10,” said my grandfather, taking his 
turn with the ashes and the tobacco-box. 

Old Hight was now puffing away like a blacksmith who 
is striving to obtain a white heat, and it was some time before 
he could get out the proper reply to this half-assertion, half- 
interrogatory sort of remark. 

“You may be sure of that,” he at length ejaculated; when, 
certain of his light, he proceeded to tell the whole story, 
stopping occasionally to puff, lest he should lose the “ vantage 
ground” he had just obtained. “ What d’ye think of half- 
a-dozen strings of red onions, for one item in a subaltern’s 
stores !” 

My grandfather grunted again, in a way that might very 
well pass for a laugh. 

“ You ’re certain they were red, Joey ?” he finally asked. 

“As red as his regimentals. Then there was a jug, filled 
with molasses, that is as big as yonder demijohn glancing 
at the vessel which contained his own private stores. “ But 
I should have thought nothing of these, a large empty sack 
attracting much of my attention. I could not imagine what 
young Tom could want of such a sack ; but, on broaching 
the subject to the Major, he very frankly gave me to under- 
stand that Louisbourg was thought to be a rich town, and 
there was no telling what luck, or Providence — yes, by 
George ! — he called it Providence ! — might throw in his son 
Tommy’s way. Now that the sack was empty, and had an 
easy time of it, the girls would put his bible and hymn-book in 
it, as a place where the young man would be likely to look 
for them. I dare say, Hodge, you never had either bible 
or hymn-book, in any of your numerous campaigns ?” 

“ No, nor a plunder-sack, nor a molasses-jug, nor strings 
of red onions,” growled my grandfather in reply. 

How well I remember that evening ! A vast deal of colo- 
nial prejudice and neighbourly antipathy made themselves 
apparent in the conversation of the two veterans; who 
seemed to entertain a strange sort of contemptuous respect 
for their fellow-subjects of New England; who, in their 
turn, I make not the smallest doubt, paid them off in kind— 


22 


S AT ANSTOE. 


with all the superciliousness and reproach, and with many 
grains less of the respect. 

That night, Major Hight and Capt. Hugh Roger Little- 
page, both got a little how-come-you-so, drinking bumpers 
to the success of what they called “ the Yankee expedition,” 
even at the moment they were indulging in constant side 
hits at the failings and habits of the people. These marks 
of neighbourly infirmity are not peculiar to the people of 
the adjacent provinces of New York and of New England. 
I have often remarked that the English think and talk very 
much of the French, as the Yankees speak of us; while the 
French, so far as I have been able to understand their some- 
what unintelligible language — which seems never to have a 
beginning nor an end — treat the English as the Puritans of the 
Old World. As I have already intimated, we were not very 
remarkable for religion in New York, in my younger days ; 
while it would be just the word, were I to say that religion 
was conspicuous among our eastern neighbours. I remem- 
ber to have heard my grandfather say, he was once ac- 
quainted with a Col. Heathcote, an Englishman, like himself, 
by birth, and a brother of a certain Sir Gilbert Heathcote, 
who was formerly a leading man in the Bank of England. 
This Col. Heathcote came among us young, and married 
here, leaving his posterity behind him , and was lord of the 
manor of Scarsdale and Mamaroneck, in our county of 
West Chester. Well, this Col. Heathcote told my grand- 
father, speaking on the subject of religion, that he had been 
much shocked, on arriving in this country, at discovering 
the neglected condition of religion in the colony ; more 
especially on Long Island, where the people lived in a sort 
of heathenish condition. Being a man of mark, and con- 
nected with the government, The Society for the Propagation 
of the Gospel in Foreign Parts, applied to him to aid it in 
spreading the truths of the bible in the colony. The Colonel 
was glad enough to comply ; and I remember my grand- 
father said, his friend told him of the answer he returned to 
these good persons in England. “ I was so struck with the 
heathenish condition of the people, on my arriving here, 5 
he wrote to them, “ that, commanding the militia of the 
colony, I ordered the captains of the different companies to 
call their men together, each Sunday at sunrise, and to drill 


S AT ANSTOE. 


23 


them until sunset ; unless they would consent to repair to 
some convenient place, and listen to morning and evening 
pmyer, and to two wholesome sermons, read by some suit- 
able person, in which case the men were to be excused from 
drill.”* I do not think this would be found necessary in 
New England at least, where many of the people would be 
likely to prefer drilling to preaching. 

But all this gossip about the moral condition of the adja- 
cent colonies of New York and New England is leading me 
from the narrative, and does not promise much for the con- 
nection and interest of the remainder of the manuscript. 


CHAPTER II. 

“ I would there were no age between ten and three-and-twenty ; 
or that youth would sleep out the rest.” 

Winter's Tale. 

It is not necessary for me to say much of the first four- 
teen years of my life. They passed like the childhood and 
youth of the sons of most gentlemen in our colony, at that 
day, with this distinction, however. There was a class 

* On the subject of 'this story, the editor can say he has seen a 
published letter from Col. Heathcote, who died more than a century 
since, at Mamaroneck, West Chester Co., in which that gentleman 
gives the Society for the propagation of the gospel an account of his 
proceedings, that agrees almost verbatim, with the account of the 
matter that is hero given by Mr. Cornelius Littlepage. The house 
in which Col. Heathcote dwelt was destroyed by fire, a short time 
before the revolution ; but the property on which it stood, and the 
present building, belong at this moment to his great-grandson, the 
Rt. Rev. Wm. Heathcote de Lanccy, the Bishop of Western New York. 

On the subject of the plunder , the editor will remark, that a near 
connection, whose grandfather was a Major at the taking of Louis- 
bourg, and who was subsequently one of the first Brigadiers appointed 
in 1775, has lately shown him a letter written to that officer, during 
the expedition, by his father ; in which, blended with a great deal of 
pious counsel, and some really excellent religious exhortation, is an 
earnest inquiry after the plunder . — Editor. 


24 


SATANSTOE. 


among us which educated its boys at home. This was not 
a very numerous class, certainly, nor was it always the 
highest in point of fortune and rank. Many of the large 
proprietors were of Dutch origin, as a matter of course ; and 
these seldom, if ever, sent their children to England to be 
taught anything, in my boyhood. I understand that a few 
are getting over their ancient prejudices, in this particular, 
and begin to fancy Oxford or Cambridge may be quite as 
learned schools as that of Leyden ; but, no Van, in my boy- 
hood, could have been made to believe this. Many of the 
Dutch proprietors gave their children very little education, 
in any way or form, though most of them imparted lessons 
of probity that were quite as useful as learning, had the two 
things been really inseparable. For my part, while I admit 
there is a great deal of knowledge going up and down the 
land, that is just of the degree to trick a fellow-creature out 
of his rights, I shall never subscribe to the opinion, which 
is so prevalent among the Dutch portion of our population, 
and which holds the doctrine that the schools of the New 
England provinces are the reason the descendants of the 
Puritans do not enjoy the best of reputations, in this respect. 
I believe a boy may be well taught, and made all the honester 
for it ; though, I admit, there may be, and is, such a thing 
as training a lad in false notions, as well as training him 
in those that are true. But, we had a class, principally of 
English extraction, that educated its sons well; usually 
sending them home, to the great English schools, and finish- 
ing at the universities. These persons, however, lived prin- 
cipally in town, or, having estates on the Hudson, passed 
their winters there. To this class the Littlepages did not 
belong ; neither their habits nor their fortunes tempting them 
to so high a flight. For myself, I was taught enough Latin 
and Greek to enter college, by the Rev. Thomas Worden, 
an English divine, who was rector of St. Jude’s, the parish 
to which our family properly belonged. This gentleman 
was esteemed a good scholar, and was very popular among 
the gentry of the county ; attending all the dinners, clubs, 
races, balls, and other diversions that were given by them, 
within ten miles of his residence. His sermons were pithy 
and short ; and he always spoke of your half-hour preachers, 
as illiterate prosers, who did not understand how to condense 


S AT ANSTOE. 


25 

their thoughts. Twenty minutes were his gauge, though 1 
remember to have heard my father say, he had known him 
preach all of twenty-two. W hen he compressed down to four- 
teen, my grandfather invariably protested he was delightful. 

I remained with Mr. Worden until I could translate the 
two first iEneids, and the whole of the Gospel of St. Mat- 
thew, pretty readily; and then my father and grandfather, 
the last in particular, for the old gentleman had a great idea 
of learning, began to turn over in their minds, the subject of 
the college to which I ought to be sent. We had the choice 
of two, in both of which the learned languages and the 
sciences are taught, to a degree, and in a perfection, that is 
surprising for a new country. These colleges are Yale, at 
New Haven, in Connecticut, and Nassau Hall, which was 
then at Newark, New Jersey, after having been a short 
time at Elizabethtown, but which has since been established 
at Princeton. Mr. Worden laughed at both ; said that nei- 
ther had as much learning as a second-rate English gram- 
mar-school ; and that a lower-form boy, at Eton or West- 
minster, could take a master’s degree at either, and pass for 
a prodigy in the bargain. My father, who was born in the 
colonies, and had a good deal of the right colony feeling, 
was nettled at this, I remember; while my grandfather, being 
old-country born, but colony educated, was at a loss how to 
view the matter. The captain had a great respect for his 
native land, and evidently considered it the paradise of this 
earth, though his recollections of it were not very distinct ; 
but, at the same time, he loved Old York, and West Chester 
in particular, where he had married and established himself 
at Satan’s Toe ; or, as he spelt it, and as we all have spelt 
it, now, this many a day, Satanstoe. I was present at the 
conversation which decided the question, as regarded my 
future education, and which took place in the common par- 
lour, around a blazing fire, about a week before Christmas, 
the year I was fourteen. There were present Capt. Hugh 
Roger, Major Evans, my mother, the Rev. Mr. Worden, and 
an old gentleman of Dutch designation and extraction, of 
the name of Abraham Van Valkenburgh, but who was fami- 
liarly called, by his friends, ’Brom Follock, or Col. Follock 
or Volleck, as the last happen to be more or less ceremo- 
nious, or more or less Dutch. Follock, I think, however 
3 


f 


26 


SATANSTOE. 


was the favourite pronunciation. This Col. Van Valken- 
burgh was an old brother-soldier of my father’s, and, indeed, 
a relation, a sort of a cousin through my greatgrandmother, 
besides being a man of much consideration and substance. 
He lived in Rockland, just across the Hudson, but never 
failed to pay a visit to Satanstoe at that season of the year. 
On the present occasion, he was accompanied by his son 
Dirck, who was my friend, and just a year my junior. 

“Veil, den,” — the colonel commenced the discourse by 
saying, as he tapped the ashes out of his pipe for the second 
time that evening, having first taken a draught of hot flip, 
a beverage much in vogue then, as well as now, — “ veil, 
den, Evans, vat is your intention as to ter poy? Vill he pe 
college-l’arnt, like as his grant-fat’er, or only school-l’arnt, 
like as his own fat’er?” The allusion to the grandfather 
being a pleasantry of the colonel’s, who insisted that all the 
old-country born were “ college-l’arnt” by instinct. 

“ To own the truth, ’Brom,” my father answered, “ this 
is a point that is not yet entirely settled, for there are dif- 
ferent opinions as to the place to which he shall be sent, 
even admitting that he is to be sent at all.” 

The colonel fastened his full, projecting, blue eyes on my 
father, in a way that pretty plainly expressed surprise. 

“ Vat, den, is dere so many colleges, dat it is hart to 
choose ?” he said. 

“ There are but two that can be of any use to us, for 
Cambridge is much too distant to think of sending the boy 
so far. Cambridge was in our thoughts at one time, but 
that is given up.” 

“ Vhere, den, ist Camprige ?” demanded the Dutchman, 
removing his pipe to ask so important a question, a cere- 
mony he usually thought unnecessary. 

“ It is a New England college — near Boston ; not half a 
day’s journey distant, I fancy.” 

“ Don’t sent Cornelius dere,” ejaculated the colonel, con- 
triving to get these words out alongside of the stem of the 
pipe. 

“ You think not, Col. Follock,” put in the anxious mother; 
“ may I ask the reason for that opinion ?” 

“ Too much Suntay, Matam Littlepage — the poy wilt be 
sp’ilt by ter ministers. He will go away an honest lat, and 


SATANSTOE. 27 

come pack a rogue. He will Tarn how to bray and to 

cheat.” 

“ Hoity toity ! my noble colonel !” exclaimed the Rev. 
Mr. Worden, affecting more resentment than he felt. 
“ Then you fancy the clergy, and too much Sunday, will 
be apt to convert an honest youth into a knave !'* 

The colonel made no answer, continuing to smoke very 
philosophically, though he took occasion, while he drew the 
pipe out of his mouth, in one of its periodical removals, to 
make a significant gesture with it towards the rising sun, 
which all present understood to mean “ down east,” as it is 
usual to say, when we mean to designate the colonies of 
New England. That he was understood by the Rev. Mr. 
Worden, is highly probable ; since that gentleman con- 
tinued to turn the flip of one vessel into another, by way of 
more intimately blending the ingredients of the mixture, 
quite as coolly as if there had been no reflection on his 
trade. 

“ What do you think of Yale, friend ’Brom ?” asked my 
father, who understood the dumb-show as well as any of 
them. 

“ No tiflerence, Evans ; dey all breaches and brays too 
much. Goot men have no neet of so much religion. 
Vhen a man is really goot, religion only does him harm. 
I mean Yankee religion.” 

“ I have another objection to Yale,” observed Capt. Hugh 
Roger, “ which is their English.” 

“ Och !” exclaimed the Colonel — “ Deir English is horri- 
ple ! Wuss dan ast to us Tutch.” 

“ Well, 1 was not aware of that,” observed my father. 
“ They are English, sir, as well as ourselves, and why 
should they not speak the language as well as we V* 

“ Why toes not a Yorkshireman, or a Cornishman, speak 
as veil as a Lonnoner 1 I tell you what, Evans, I ’ll pet the 
pest game-cock on ter Neck, against the veriest tunghill tho 
parson hast, ter Presitent of Yale calls peen, pen, ant 
roof, ruff — and so on.” 

“ My birds are all game,” put in the divine ; “ I keep no 
other breed.” 

“ Surely, Mr. Worden, you do not countenance cock- 
fights by your presence !” my mother said, using as much 


S AT ANSTOE. 


28 

of reproach in her manner as comported with the holy office 
of the party she addressed, and with her own gentle nature. 
The Colonel winKed at my father, and laughed through his 
pipe, an exploit he might have been said to perform almost 
houriy. My father smiled in return ; for, to own the truth, 
he had been present at such sports on one or fwo occasions, 
when the parson’s curiosity had tempted him to peep in 
also ; but my grandfather looked grave and much in earnest. 
As for Mr. Worden himself, he met the imputation like a 
man. To do him justice, if he were not an ascetic, 
neither was he a whining hypocrite, as is the case with too 
many of those who aspire to be disciples and ministers of 
our blessed Lord. 

“ Why not, Madam Littlepage ?” Mr. Worden stoutly 
demanded. “ There are worse places than cock-pits ; for, 
mark me, I never bet — no, not on a horse-race, even ; and 
that is an occasion on which any gentleman might venture 
a few guineas, in a liberal, frank, way. There are so few 
amusements for people of education in this country, Madam 
Littlepage, that one is not to be too particular. If there 
were hounds and hunting, now, as there are at home, you 
should never hear of me at a cock-fight, I can assure you.” 

“ I must say I do not approve of cock-fights,” rejoined 
my mother meekly ; “ and I hope Corny will never be 
seen at one. No — never — never.” 

“ Dere you’re wrong, Matam Littlepage,” the Colonel 
remarked, “ for ter sight of ter spirit of ter cocks wilt give 
ter boy spirit himself. My Tirck, dere, goes to all in ter 
neighbourhood and he is a game-cock himself, let me tell 
you. Come, Tirck — come — cock-a-doodle-doo !” 

This was true all round, as I very well knew, young as 
I was. Dirck, who was as slow-moving, as dull-seeming, 
and as anti-mercurial a boy to look at as one could find in 
a thousand, was thorough game at the bottom, and he had 
been at many a main, as he had told me himself. How 
much of his spirit was derived from witnessing such scenes 
I will not take on me to affirm ; for, in these later times, I 
have heard it questioned whether such exhibitions do really 
improve the spectator’s courage or not. But Dirck had 
pluck, and plenty of it, and in that particular, at least, his 
father was not mistaken. The Colonel’s opinion always 


S AT ANSTOE. 


29 


carried weight with my mother, both on account of his 
Dutch extraction, and on account of his well-established 
probity ; for, to own the truth, a text or a sentiment from 
him had far more weight with her than the same from the 
clergyman. She was silenced on the subject of cock- 
fighting for the moment, therefore, which gave Capt. Hugh 
Roger further opportunity to pursue that of the English 
language. The grandfather, who was an inveterate lover 
of the sport, would have cut in to that branch of the dis- 
course, but he had a great tenderness for my mother, whom 
everybody loved by the way, and he commanded himself, 
glad to find that so important an interest had fallen into 
hands as good as those of the Colonel. He would just 
as soon be absent from church as be absent from a cock- 
fight, and he was a very good observer of religion. 

“ I should have sent Evans to Yale, had it not been for 
the miserable manner of speaking English they have in 
New England,” resumed my grandfather ; “ and I had no 
wish to have a son who might pass for a Cornish man. We 
shall have to send this boy to Newark, in New Jersey. The 
distance is not so great, and we shall be certain he will not 
get any of your round-head notions of religion, too. Col. 
’Brom, you Dutch are not altogether free from these dis- 
tressing follies. 

“ Debbie a pit !” growled the Colonel, through his pipe ; 
for no devotee of liberalism and latitudinarianism in religion 
could be more averse to extra-piety than he. The Colonel, 
however, was not of the Dutch Reformed ; he was an Epis- 
copalian, like ourselves, his mother having brought this 
branch of the Follocks into the church ; and, consequently, 
he entered into all our feelings on the subject of religion, 
heart and hand. Perhaps Mr. Worden was a greater favour- 
ite with no member of the four parishes over which he pre- 
sided, than with Col. Abraham Van Valkenburgh. 

“ I should think less of sending Corny to Newark,” 
added my mother, “ was it not for crossing the water-.” 

“ Crossing the water!” repeated Mr. Worden. “The 
Newark we mean, Madam Littlepage, is net at home : the 
Jersey of which we speak is the adjoining colony of that 
name.” 

« I am aware of that, Mr. Worden ; but it is not possible 

3* 


30 


SATANSTOE. 


to get to Newark, without making that terrible voyage bo 
tween New York and Powles’ Hook. No, sir, it is impos- 
sible ; and every time the child comes home, that risk will 
have to be run. It would cause me many a sleepless 
night !” 

“ He can go by Tobb’s Ferry, Matam Litttlepage,” quietly 
observed the Colonel. 

“ Dobb’s Ferry can be very little better than that by 
Powles’ Hook,” rejoined the tender mother. “ A ferry is a 
ferry; and the Hudson will be the Hudson, from Albany to 
New York. So water is water.” 

As these were all self-evident propositions, they produced 
a pause in the discourse ; for men do not deal with new ideas 
as freely as they deal with the old. 

“ Dere is a way, Evans, as you and I know py experi- 
ence,” resumed the Colonel, winking again at my father, 
“ to go rount the Hudson altoget’er. To pe sure, it is a 
long way, and a pit in the woots ; but petter to untertake 
dat, than to haf the poy lose his l’arnin’. Ter journey might 
be made in two mont’s, and he none the wuss for ter exer- 
cise. Ter Major and I were never heartier dan when we 
were operating on the he’t waters of the Hutson. I will tell 
Corny the roat.” 

My mother saw that her apprehensions were laughed at, 
and she had the good sense to be silent. The discussion 
did not the less proceed, until it was decided, after an hour 
more of weighing the pros and the cons , that I was to be 
sent to Nassau Hall, Newark, New Jersey, and was to 
move from that place with the college, whenever that event 
might happen. 

“ You will send Dirck there, too,” my father added, as 
soon as the affair in my case was finally determined. “ It 
would be a pity to separate the boys, afler they have been 
so long together, and have got to be so much used to each 
other. Their characters are so identical, too, that they 
are more like brothers than very distant relatives.” 

“ Dey will like one anot’er all de petter for pern’ a little 
tifferent, den,” answered the Colonel, drily. 

Dirck and I were no more alike than a horse resembles 
a mule. 

“ Ay, but Dirck is a lad who will do honour to an edu« 


SATANSTOE. 


31 

cation — he is solid and thoughtful, and learning will not be 
thrown away on such a youth. Was he in England, that 
sedate lad might get to be a bishop.” 

“ I want no pishops in my family, Major Evans ; nor do 
I want any great Famin’. None of us ever saw a college, 
and we have got on fery veil. I am a colonel and a mem* 
per ; my fat’er was a colonel and a memper ; and my grand- 
fat’er woult have peen a colonel and a memper, but dere 
vast no colonels and no mempers in his time ; though Tirck, 
yonter can be a colonel and a memper, wit’out crosting dat 
terriple ferry that frightens Matam Littlepage so much.” 

There was usually a little humour in all Col. Follock said 
and did, though it must be owned it was humour after a 
very Dutch model ; Dutch-built fun, as Mr. Worden used 
to call it. Nevertheless, it was humour ; and there was 
enough of Holland in all the junior generations of the Lit- 
tlepages to enjoy it. My father understood him, and my 
mother did not hear the last of the “ terriple ferry” until 
not only I, but the college itself, had quitted Newark ; for 
the institution made another remove to Princeton, the place 
where it is now to be found, some time before I got my 
degree. 

“ You have got on very well without a college education, 
as all must admit, colonel,” answered Mr. Worden; “but 
there is no telling how much better you would have got on, 
had you been an A. M. You might, in the last case, have 
been a general and a member of the King’s council.” 

“ Dere ist no yeneral in ter colony, the commander-in- 
chief and His Majesty’s representatif excepted,” returned 
the colonel. “We are no Yankees, to make yenerals of 
ploughmen.” 

Hereupon, the colonel and my father knocked the ashes 
out of their pipes at the same instant, and both laughed, — 
a merriment in which the parson, my grandfather, my dear 
mother, and I myself joined. Even a negro boy, who was 
about my own age, and whose name was Jacob, or Jaap, - 
but who was commonly called Yaap, grinned at the remark, 
for he had a sovereign contempt for Yankee Land, and all 
it contained ; almost as sovereign a contempt as that which 
Yankee Land entertained for York itself, and its Dutch 
population. Dirck was the only person present who looked 


SATANSTOE. 


32 

grave ; but Dirck was habitually as grave and sedate, as if 
he had been born to become a burgomaster. 

“ Quite right, Brom,” cried my father ; “ colonels ara 
good enough for us ; and when we do make a man that , 
even, we are a little particular about his being respectable 
and fit for the office. Nevertheless, learning will not hurt 
Corny, and to college he shall go, let you do as you please 
with Dirck. So that matter is settled, and no more need be 
said about it.” 

And it was settled, and to college I did go, and that by 
the awful Powles’ Hook Ferry, in the bargain. Near as we 
lived to town, I paid my first visit to the island of Manhat- 
tan the day my father and myself started for Newark. I 
had an aunt, who lived in Queen Street, not a very great 
distance from the fort, and she had kindly invited me and 
my father to pass a day with her, on our way to New Jer- 
sey, which invitation had been accepted. In my youth, the 
world in general was not as much addicted to gadding about 
as it is now getting to be, and neither my grandfather nor 
my father ordinarily went to town, their calls to the legisla- 
ture excepted, more than twice a year. My mother’s visits 
were still less frequent, although Mrs. Legge, my aunt, was 
her own sister. Mr. Legge was a lawyer of a good deal of 
reputation, but he was inclined to be in the opposition, or 
espoused the popular side in politics ; and there could be no 
great cordiality between one of that frame of mind and our 
family. I remember we had not been in the house an hour, 
before a warm discussion took place between my uncle and 
my father, on the question of the right of the subject to can- 
vass the acts of the government. We had left home imme- 
diately after an early breakfast, in order to reach town be- 
fore dark ; but a long detention at the Harlem Ferry, com- 
pelled us to dine in that village, and it was quite night be- 
fore we stopped in Queen Street. My aunt ordered supper 
early, in order that we might get early to bed, to recover 
from our fatigue, and be ready for sight-seeing next day. 
We sat down to supper, therefore, in less than an hour after 
our arrival ; and it was while we were at table that the dis- 
cussion I have mentioned took place. It would seem that a 
party had been got up in town among the disloyal, and I 
might almost say, the disaffected, which claimed for the 


S AT ANSTOE. 


33 


subject the right to know in what manner every shilling of 
the money raised by taxation was expended. This very 
obviously improper interference with matters that did not 
belong to them, on the part of the ruled, was resisted by the 
rulers, and that with energy ; inasmuch as such inquiries 
and investigations would naturally lead to results that might 
bring authority into discredit, make the governed presuming 
and prying in their dispositions, and cause much derange- 
ment and inconvenience to the regular and salutary action 
of government. My father took the negative of the ’propo- 
sition, while my uncle maintained its affirmative. I well 
remember that my poor aunt looked uneasy, and tried to 
divert the discourse by exciting our curiosity on a new 
subject. 

“ Corny has been particularly lucky in having come to 
town just as he has, since we shall have a sort of gala-day, 
to-morrow, for the blacks and the children.” 

I was not in the least offended at being thus associated 
with the negroes, for they mingled in most of the amuse- 
ments of us young people ; but I did not quite so well like to 
be ranked with the children, now I was fourteen, and on my 
way to college. Notwithstanding this, I did not fail to be- 
tray an interest in what was to come next, by my counte- 
nance. As for my father, he did not hesitate about asking 
an explanation. 

“ The news came in this morning, by a fast-sailing sloop, 
that the Patroon of Albany is on- his way to New York, in 
his coach-and-four, and with two out-riders, and that he may 
be expected to reach town in the course of to-morrow. 
Several of my acquaintances have consented to let their 
children go out a little way into the country, to see him 
come in ; and, as for the blacks, you know, it is just as well 
to give them permission to be of the party, as half of them 
would otherwise go without asking it.” 

“ This will be a capital opportunity to let Corny see a 
little of the world,” cried my father, “ and I would not have 
him miss it on any account. Besides, it is useful to teach 
young people early, the profitable lesson of honouring their 
superiors and seniors.” 

“ In that sense it may do,” growled my uncle, who, 
Vhough so much of a latitudinarian in his political opinions, 


34 


S AT ANSTOE . 


never failed to inculcate all useful and necessary maxima 
for private life ; “ the Patroon of Albany being one of the 
most respectable and affluent of all our gentry. I have no 
objections to Corny’s going to see that sight ; and, I hope, 
my dear, you will let both Pompey and Caesar be of the 
party. It won’t hurt the fellows to see the manner in which 
the Patroon has his carriage kept and horses groomed.” 

Pompey and Caesar were of the party, though the latter 
did not join us until Pompey had taken me all round the 
town, to see the principal sights ; it being understood that 
the Patroon had slept at Kingsbridge, and would not be 
likely to reach town until near noon. New York was cer- 
tainly not the place, in 1751, it is to-day; nevertheless, it 
was a large and important town, even when I went to col- 
lege, containing not less than twelve thousand souls, blacks 
included. The Town Hall is a magnificent structure, stand- 
ing at the head of Broad Street ; and thither Pompey led me, 
even before my aunt had come down to breakfast. I could 
scarcely admire that fine edifice sufficiently ; which, for size, 
architecture and position, has scarcely now an equal in all 
the colonies. It is true, that the town has much improved, 
within the last twenty years ; but York was a noble place, 
even in the middle of this century ! After breakfast, Pom- 
pey and I proceeded up Broadway, commencing near the 
fort, at the Bowling Green, and walking some distance be- 
yond the head of Wall Street, or quite a quarter of a mile. 
Nor did the town stop here’; though its principal extent is, 
or was then, along the margin of the East River. Trinity 
Church I could hardly admire enough either ; for, it appeared 
to me, that it was large enough to contain all the church- 
people in the colony.* It was a venerable structure, which 

* The intelligent reader will, of course, properly appreciate tho 
provincial admiration of Mr. Littlepage, who naturally fancied his 
own best was other people’s best. The Trinity of that day was 
burned in the great fire of 1776. The edifice that succeeded it, at 
the peace of 1783, has already given place to a successor, that has 
more claim to be placed on a level with modern, English, town church* 
architecture, than any other building in the Union. When another 
shall succeed this, which shall be as much larger and more elaborated 
than this is compared to its predecessor, and still another shall suc- 
ceed, which shall bear the same relation to that, then the country will 
possess an edifice that is on a level with the first-rate Gothic cathe- 


S AT ANSTOE. 


35 


had then felt the heats of summer and the snows of winter 
on its roofs and walls, near half a century, and it still stands 
a monument of pious zeal and cultivated taste. There were 
other churches, belonging to other denominations, of course, 
that were well worthy of being seen ; to say nothing of the 
markets. I thought I never should tire of gazing at the mag- 
nificence of the shops, particularly the silversmiths’ ; some 
of which must have had a thousand dollars’ worth of plate 
in their windows, or otherwise in sight. I might say as 
much of the other shops, too, which attracted a just portion 
of my admiration. 

About eleven, the number of children and blacks that 
were seen walking towards the Bowery Road, gave us notice 
that it was time to be moving in that direction. We were 
in the upper part of Broadway, at the time, and Pompey 
proceeded forthwith to fall into the current, making all the 
haste he could, as it was thought the traveller might pass 
down towards the East River, and get into Queen Street, 
before we could reach the point at which he would diverge. 
It is true, the old town residence of Stephen de Lancey, 
which stood at the head of Broadway, just above Trinity,* 
had been converted into a tavern, and we did not know but 
the Patroon might choose to alight there, as it was then the 
principal inn of the town ; still, most people preferred 
Queen Street ; and the new City Tavern was so much out 
of the way, that strangers in particular were not fond of 
frequenting it. Csesar came up, much out of breath, just 
as we got into the country. 

Quitting Broadway, we went along the country road 
that then diverged to the east, but which is now getting to 
contain a sort of suburb, and passing the road that leads 

dral-architecture of Europe. It would be idle to pretend that the new 
Trinity is without faults ; some of which are probably the result of 
circumstances and necessity ; but, if the respectable architect who 
has built it, had no other merit, he would deserve the gratitude of 
every man of taste in the country, by placing church-towers of a 
proper comparative breadth, dignity and proportions, before the eyes 
of its population. The diminutive meanness of American church- 
towers, has been an eye-sore to every intelligent , travelled American, 
since the country settled. — Editor. 

* The site of the present City Hotel. — E d. 

& 


S AT ANSTOE. 


36 

into Queen Street, we felt more certain of meeting the tra- 
veller, whose carriage we soon learned had not gone by. As 
there were and are several taverns for country people in 
this quarter, most of us went quite into the country, pro- 
ceeding as far as the villas of the Bayards, de Lanceys, 
and other persons of mark ; of which there are several 
along the Bowery Road. Our party stopped under some 
cherry-trees, that were not more than a mile from town, 
nearly opposite to Lt. Gov. de Lancey’s country-house 
but many boys &c. went a long long way into the country, 
finishing the day by nutting and gathering apples in the 
grounds of Petersfield and Rosehill, the country residences 
of the Stuyvesant and Watt, or, as the last is now called 
the Watts, families. I was desirous of going thus far my- 
self, for I had heard much of both of those grand places ; 
but Pompey told me it would be necessary to be back for 
dinner by half-past one, his mistress having consented to 
postpone the hour a little, in order to indulge my natural 
desire to see all I could while in town. 

We were not altogether children and blacks who were 
out on the Bowery Road that day, — many tradesmen were 
among us, the leathern aprons making a goodly parade on 
the occasion. I saw one or two persons wearing swords, ho- 
vering round, in the lanes and in the woods, — proof that even 
gentlemen had some desire to see so great a person as the Pa- 
troon of Albany pass. I shall not stop to say much of the 
transit of the Patroon. He came by about noon, as was ex- 
pected, and in his coach-and-four, with two outriders, coach- 
man, &c. in liveries, as is usual in the families of the gentry, 
and with a team of heavy, black, Dutch-looking horses, 
that I remember Caesar pronounced to be of the true Flemish 
breed. The Patroon himself was a sightly, well-dressed 
gentleman, wearing a scarlet coat, flowing wig, and cocked 
hat; and I observed that the handle of his sword was 
of solid silver. But my father wore a sword with a solid 
silver handle, too, a present from my grandfather when the 
former first entered the army.f He bowed to the salutations 

* Now, de Lancey Street. — E d. 

tThis patroon must have been Jeremiah Van Rensselaer, who lived 
to be a bachelor of forty before he married. If there be no anachre- 


SA TANS TOE. 


37 

he received in passing, and I thought all the spectators were 
pleased with the noble sight of seeing such an equipage pass 
into the town. Such a sight does not occur every day in 
the colonies, and I felt exceedingly happy that it had been 
my privilege to witness it. 

A little incident occurred to myself that rendered this 
day long memorable to me. Among the spectators assem- 
bled along the road on this occasion, were several groups 
of girls, who belonged to the better class, and who had been 
induced to come out into the country, either led by curiosity 
or by the management of the different sable nurses who had 
them in charge. In one of these groups was a girl of 
about ten, or possibly of eleven years of age, whose dress, 
air, and mien, early attracted my attention. I thought her 
large, bright, full, blue eye, particularly winning ; and boys 
of fourteen are not altogether insensible to beauty in the 
other sex, though they are possibly induced oftener to re- 
gard it in those who are older than in those who are younger 
than themselves. Pompey happened to be acquainted with 
Silvy, the negress who had the care of my little beauty, to 
whom he bowed, and addressed as Miss Anneke (Anna Cor- 
nelia, abbreviated). Anneke I thought a very pretty name 
too, and some little advances were made towards an ac- 
quaintance by means of an offering of some fruit that I had 
gathered by the way-side. Things were making a con- 

nism, this gentleman married Miss Van Cortlandt, one of the seven 
daughters of Stephanus Van Cortlandt, who was proprietor of the 
great manor of Cortlandt, West Chester county, and who, in his day, 
was the principal personage of the colony. The seven daughters of 
this Colonel Van Cortlandt, by marrying into the families of de Lan- 
cey, Bayard, Van Rensellaer, Beekman, M’Gregor — Skinner, &c. &c. 
brought together a connection that was long felt in the political affairs 
of New York. The Schuylers were related through a previous mar- 
riage, and many of the Long Island and other families of weight by 
other alliances. This connection formed the court party, which was 
resisted by an opposition led by the Livingstons, Morris, and other 
names of their connection. This old bachelor, Jeremiah Van Rensel- 
laer, believing he would never marry, alienated, in behalf of his next 
brother and anticipated heir, the Greenbush and Claverack estates, — 
portions of those vast possessions which, in our day, and principally 
through the culpable apathy, or miserable demagogueism of those 
who have been entrusted with the care of the public weal, have been 
the pretext for violating some of the plainest laws of morality that 
God has communicated to man. — Editor. 

4 


38 


S AT ANSTOE. 


\ 


siderable progress, and I had asked several questions, such 
as whether ‘ Miss Anneke had ever seen a patroon,’ which 
‘ was the greatest personage, a patroon or a governor, 
whether ‘ a nobleman who had lately been in the colony, aa 
a military officer, or the patroon, would be likely to have 
the finest coach,’ when a butcher’s boy, who was passing, 
rudely knocked an apple out of Anneke’s hand, and caused 
her to shed a tear. 

I took fire at this unprovoked outrage, and lent the fellow 
a dig in the ribs that gave him to understand the young 
lady had a protector. My chap was about my own age 
and weight, and he surveyed me a minute with a species of 
contempt, and then beckoned me to follow him into an 
orchard that was hard by, but a little out of sight. In spite 
of Anneke’s entreaties I went, and Pompey and Caesar fol- 
lowed. We had both stripped before the negroes got up, 
for they were in a hot discussion whether I was to be per- 
mitted to fight or not. Pompey maintained it would keep 
dinner waiting ; but Caesar, who had the most bottom, as 
became his name, insisted, as I had given a blow, I was 
bound to render satisfaction. Luckily, Mr. Worden was 
very skilful at boxing, and he had given both Dirck and 
myself many lessons, so that I soon found myself the best 
fellow. I gave the butcher’s boy a bloody nose and a black 
eye, when he gave in, and I came off victor ; not, however, 
without a facer or two, that sent me to college with a repu- 
tation I hardly merited, or that of a regular pugilist. 

When I returned to the road, after this breathing, Anneke* 
had disappeared, and I was so shy and silly as not to ask 
her family name from Csesar the Great, or Pompey the 
Little. 


* Pronounced On-na-&ay, I believe. — Editor 


S AT ANSTOE. 


39 


CHAPTER III. 

“ Believe me, thou talkest of an admirable conceited fellow. Ha* 
ne any unbraided wares'?” 

“ Pr’ythee, bring him in ; and let him approach singing.” 

Winter's Tale. 

I have no intention of taking the reader with me through 
college, where I remained the usual term of four years. 
These four years were not idled away, as sometimes happens, 
but were fairly improved. I read all of the New Testament, 
in Greek ; several of Cicero’s Orations ; every line of 
Horace, Satires and Odes ; four books of the Iliad ; Tully 
de Oratore, throughout ; besides paying proper attention to 
geography, mathematics, and other of the usual branches. 
Moral philosophy, in particular, was closely attended to, 
senior year, as well as Astronomy. We had a telescope 
that showed us all four of Jupiter’s moons. In other re- 
spects, Nassau might be called the seat of learning. One 
of our class purchased a second-hand copy of Euripides, in 
town, and we had it in college alt of six months ; though it 
was never my good fortune to see it, as the young man who 
owned it, was not much disposed to let profane eyes view 
his treasure. Nevertheless, I am certain the copy of the 
work was in college ; and we took good care to let the Yale 
men hear of it more than once. I do not believe they ever 
saw even the outside of an Euripides. As for the telescope, 
I can testify of my own knowledge ; having seen the moons 
of Jupiter as often as ten times, with my own eyes, aided 
by its magnifiers. We had a tutor who was expert among 
the stars, and who, it was generally believed, would have 
been able to see the ring of Saturn, could he have found the 
planet ; which, as it turned out, he was unable to do. 

My four college years were very happy years. The va- 
cations came often, and I went home invariably ; passing a 
day or two with my aunt Legge, in going or coming. The 
acquisition of knowledge was always agreeable to me ; and 
I may say it without vanity, I trust, at this time of life, I 
got the third honour of my class. We should have gradu- 


40 


S AT ANSTOE. 


ated four, but one of our class was compelled to quit us at 
the end of junior year, on account of his health. He was 
an unusually hard student, and it was generally admitted 
that he would have taken the first honour had he remained. 
We were thought to acquit ourselves with credit at the com- 
mencement; although I afterwards heard my grandfather 
tell Mr. Worden, that he was of opinion the addresses would 
have been more masculine and commendable, had less been 
said of the surprising growth, prosperity, and power of the 
colonies. He had no objection to the encouragement of a 
sound, healthful, patriotic feeling; but to him it appeared 
that something more novel might have better pleased the 
audience. This may have been true, as all three of us had 
something to say on the subject ; and it is a proof how much 
we thought alike, that our language was almost as closely 
assimilated as our ideas. 

As for the Powles Hook Ferry, it was an unpleasant place 
I will allow ; though by the time I was junior I thought 
nothing of it. My mother, however, was glad when it was 
passed for the last time. I remember the very first words 
that escaped her, after she had kissed me on my final return 
from college, were, “ Well, Heaven be praised, Corny ! 
you will never again have any occasion to cross that fright- 
ful ferry, now college is completely done with !” My 
poor mother little knew how much greater dangers I was 
subsequently called on to encounter, in another direction. 
Nor was she minutely accurate in her anticipations, since I 
have crossed the ferry in question, several times in later life ; 
the distances not appearing to be as great, of late years, as 
they certainly seemed to be in my youth. 

It was a feather in a young man’s cap to have gone through 
college, in 1755, which was the year I graduated. It is true, 
the University men, who had been home for their learning, 
were more or less numerous ; but they were of a class that 
held itself aloof from the smaller gentry, and most of them 
were soon placed in office, adding the dignity of public trusts 
to their acquisitions — the former in a manner overshadowing 
the latter. But, I was nearer to the body of the community, 
and my position admitted more of comparative excellence, 
as it might be. No one thinks of certain habits, opinions, 
manners, and tastes, in the circle where they are expected 


S ATANSTOE. 


41 


to be found ; but, it is a different thing where all, or any of 
these peculiarities form the exception. I am afraid more 
was anticipated from my college education than has ever 
been realized ; but I will say this for my Alma Mater , that 
I am not conscious my acquisitions at college have ever been 
of any disadvantage to me ; and I rather think they have, 
in some degree at least, contributed to the little success that 
has attended my humble career. 

I kept up my intimacy with Dirck Follock, during the 
whole time I remained at college. He continued the classics 
with Mr. Worden, for two years after I left the school ; but 
I could not discover that his progress amounted to anything 
worth mentioning. The master used to tell the Colonel, 
that “ Dirck’s progress was slow and sure and this did 
not fail to satisfy a man who had a constitutional aversion 
to much of the head-over-heels rate of doing things among 
the English population. Col. Follock, as we always called 
him, except when my father or grandfather asked him to 
drink a glass of wine, or drank his health in the first glass 
after the cloth was removed, when he was invariably styled 
Col. Van Valkenburgh, at full length ; but Col. Follock was 
quite content that his son and heir should know no more 
than he knew himself, after making proper allowances for 
the difference in years and experience. By the time I re- 
turned home, however, a material change had been made 
in the school. Mr. Worden fell heir to a moderate compe- 
tency at home, and he gave up teaching, a business he had 
never liked, accordingly. It was even thought he was a 
shade less zealous in his parochial duties, after the acquisi- 
tion of this fifty pounds sterling a-year, than he had previ- 
ously been ; though I am far from insisting on the fact’s 
being so. At any rate, it was not in the power of £50 per 
annum to render Mr. Worden apathetic on the subject of the 
church ; for he continued a most zealous churchman down 
to the hour of his death ; and this was something, even ad- 
mitting that he was not quite so zealous as a Christian. 
The church being the repository of the faith, if not the faith 
Itself, it follows that its friends are akin to religion, though 
not absolutely religious. I have always liked a man the 
better for being what I call a sound, warm-hearted church 
man, though his habits may have been a little free. 

4 * 


42 


S AT ANSTOE . 


It was necessary to supply the place left vacant by th$ 
emigration of Mr. Worden, or to abandon a school that had 
got to be the nucleus of knowledge in Westchester. There 
was a natural desire, at first, to obtain another scholar from 
home; but no such person offering, a Yale College graduate 
was accepted, though not without sundry rebellions, and 
plenty of distrust. The moment he appeared, Col. Follock, 
and Major Nicholas Oothout, another respectable Dutch 
neighbour, withdrew their sons ; and from that hour Dirck 
never went to school again. It is true, Westchester was 
not properly a Dutch county, like Rockland, and Albany, 
and Orange, and several others along the river ; but it had 
many respectable families in it, of that extraction, without 
alluding to such heavy people as the Van Cortlands, Felipses, 
Beekmans, and two or three others of that stamp. Most of 
our important county families had a different origin, as in 
the case of the Morrises, of Morrisania, and of the Manor of 
Fordham, the Pells, of Pelham, the Ifeathcotes, of Maman- 
neck, the branch of the de Lanceys, at West Farms, the 
Jays, of Rye, &c., &c. All these came of the English, or 
the Huguenot stock. Among these last, more or less Dutch 
blood was to be found, however ; though Dutch prejudices 
were a good deal weakened. Although few of these persons 
sent their boys to this school, they were consulted in the 
selection of a master ; and I have always supposed that 
their indifference was the cause that the county finally ob- 
tained the services of a Yankee, from Yale, 
v The name of the new pedagogue was Jason Newcome, 
or, as he pronounced the latter appellation himself, Noo- 
come. As he affected a pedantic way of pronouncing the 
last syllable long, or as it w T as spelt, he rather called him- 
self Noo-comb, instead of Newciim, as is the English mode, 
whence he soon got the nick-name of Jason Old Comb 
among the boys ; the lank, orderly arrangement of his jet- 
black, and somewhat greasy-looking locks, contributing 
their share towards procuring for him the sobriquet, as I 
believe the French call it. As this Mr. Newcome will have 
a material part to play in the succeeding portions of this 
narrative, it may be well to be a little more minute in his 
description. 

I found Jason fully established in the school, on my re- 


SATANSTOE. 


4o 

turn from college. I remember we met very much like 
two strange birds, that see each other for the first time on 
the same dunghill ; or two quadrupeds, in their original in- 
terview in a common herd. It was New Haven against 
Newark ; though the institution, after making as many mi- 
grations as the House of Loretto, finally settled down at 
Princeton, a short time before I took my degree. I was 
consequently entitled to call myself a graduate of Newark, — 
a sort of scholar that is quite as great a curiosity in the country 
as a Queen Anne’s farthing, or a book printed in the fifteenth 
century. I remember the first evening we two spent in 
company, as well as if the meeting occurred only last night. 
It was at Satanstoe, and Mr. Worden was present. Jason 
had a liberal supply of puritanical notions, which were bred 
in-and-in in his moral, and I had almost said, in his physical 
system ; nevertheless, he could unbend ; and I did not fail 
to observe that very evening, a gleam of covert enjoyment 
on his sombre countenance, as the hot-stuff, the cards, and 
the pipes were produced, an hour or two before supper, — a 
meal we always had hot and comfortable. This covert 
satisfaction, however, was not exhibited without certain 
misgiving looks, as if the neophyte in these innocent en 
joyments distrusted his right to possess his share. I re- 
member in particular, when my mother laid two or three 
new, clean packs of cards on the table, that Jason cast a 
stealthy glance over his shoulder, as if to make certain that 
the act was not noted by the minister, or the “ neighbours.” 
The neighbours! — what a contemptible being a man be- 
comes, who lives in constant dread of the comments and 
judgments of these social supervisors ! and what a wretch, 
the habit of deferring to no principle better than their deci 
sion has made many a being, who has had originally the 
materials of something better in him, than has been deve- 
loped by the surveillance of ignorance, envy, vulgarity, 
gossiping and lying ! In those cases in which education, 
social position, opportunities and experience have made any 
material difference between the parties, the man who yields 
to such a government, exhibits the picture of a giant held 
in bondage by a pigmy. I have always remarked, too, that 
they who are best qualified to sit in this neighbourhood- 
tribunal, generally keep most aloof from it, as repugnant to 


44 


SAT ANSTOE. 


their tastes and habits, thus leaving its decisions to the poi 
tion of the community least qualified to make such as are 
either just or enlightened. 

I felt a disposition to laugh outright, at the manner in 
which Jason betrayed a sneaking consciousness of crime, 
as he saw my meek, innocent, simple-minded, just and 
warm-hearted mother lay the cards on the table that even- 
ing. His sense of guilt was purely conventional, while 
my mother’s sense of innocence existed in the absence of 
false instruction, and in the purity of her intentions. One 
had been taught no exaggerated and false notion of sin,— 
nay, a notion that is impious, as it is clearly impious in 
man to torture acts that are perfectly innocent, per se , into 
formal transgressions of the law of God, — while the other had 
been educated under the narrow and exaggerated notions 
of a provincial sect, and had obtained a species of con 
science that was purely dependent on his miserable school- 
ing. I heard my grandfather say that Jason actually showed 
the white of his eyes the first time he saw Mr. Worden 
begin to deal, and he still looked, the whole time we were 
at whist, as if he expected some one might enter, and tell 
of his delinquency. I soon discovered that Jason had 
a much greater dread of being told of, than of doing such 
things as taking a hand at whist, or drinking a glass of 
punch, from which I inferred his true conscience drew per- 
ceptible distinctions between the acts and the penalties he 
had been accustomed to see inflicted on them. He was 
much disposed to a certain sort of frailty ; but it was a 
sneaking disposition to the last. 

But, the amusing part of the exhibition, that first evening 
of our acquaintance, was Mr. Worden’s showing off his 
successor’s familiarity with the classics. Jason had not the 
smallest notion of quantity ; and he pronounced the Latin 
very much as one would read Mohawk, from a vocabulary 
made out by a hunter, or a savant of the French Academy. 
As I had received the benefit of Mr. Worden’s own instruc- 
tion, I could do better, and, generally, my knowledge of the 
classics went beyond that of Jason’s. The latter’s English, 
too, was long a source of amusement with us all, though my 
grandfather often expressed strong disgust at it. Even Col. 
Follock did not scruple to laugh at Newcome’s English, 


S AT ANSTOE . 


45 


which, as he frequently took occasion to say, “ hat a ferry 
remarkaple sount to it.” As this peculiarity of Jason’s ex- 
tended a good way into the Anglo-Saxon race, in the part 
of the country in which he was born, it may be well tc 
explain what I mean a little more at large. 

Jason was the son of an ordinary Connecticut farmer, of 
the usual associations, and with no other pretension to edu- 
cation than such as was obtained in a common school, or any 
reading which did not include the Scriptures, some half 
dozen volumes of sermons and polemical works, all the 
latter of which were vigorously as well as narrowly one-sided, 
and a few books that had been expressly written to praise 
New England, and to undervalue all the rest of the earth. 
As the family knew nothing of the world beyond the limits 
of its own township, and an occasional visit to Hartford, on 
what is called “ election-day,” Jason’s early life was neces- 
sarily of the most contracted experience. His English, as 
a matter of course, was just that of his neighbourhood and 
class of life ; which was far from being either very elegant 
or very Doric. But on this rustic, provincial, or rather, 
hamlet foundation, Jason had reared a superstructure of 
New Haven finish and proportions. As he kept school 
before he went to college, while he was in college, and after 
he left college, the whole energies of his nature became 
strangely directed to just such reforms of language as would 
be apt to strike the imagination of a pedagogue of his ca- 
libre. In the first place, he had brought from home with 
him a great number of sounds that were decidedly vulgar 
and vicious, and with these in full existence in himself, he 
had commenced his system of reform on other people. As 
is common with all tyros, he fancied a very little knowledge 
sufficient authority for very great theories. His first step 
was to improve the language, by adapting sound to spelling 
and he insisted on calling angel, an- gel, because a-n spelc 
an ; chamber, cham- ber, for the same reason ; and so on 
through a long catalogue of similarly constructed words. 
“English,” he did not pronounce as “/nglish,” but as “ Eng- 
lish ,” for instance; and “nothing” (anglice nuthing), as 
noth-ing ; or, perhaps, it were better to say “ wawthin’.” 
While Jason showed himself so much of a purist with these 
and many other words, he was guilty of some of the grossest 


S AT ANSTOE. 


46 

possible mistakes, that were directly in opposition to his own 
theory. Thus, while he affectedly pronounced “ none,” 
(nun,) as “ known,” he did not scruple to call “ stone,” 
‘stun,” and “ home,” “ hum.” The idea of pronouncing 
“ clerk,” as it should he, or “ dark,” greatly shocked him, 
as it did to call “ he’arth,” “ h’arth ;” though he did not hesitate 
to call this good earth of ours, the “ ’arth.” “ Been,” he 
pronounced “ ben,” of course, and “ roof,” he called “ ruff,” 
in spite of all his purism. 

From the foregoing specimens, half a dozen among a 
thousand, the reader will get an accurate notion of this 
weakness in Jason’s character. It was heightened by the 
fact that the young man commenced his education, such as 
it was, late in life, and it is rare indeed that either know- 
ledge or tastes thus acquired are entirely free from exag- 
geration. Though Jason was several years my senior, like 
myself he was a recent graduate, and it will be easy 
enough to imagine the numberless discussions that took 
place between us, on the subject of our respective acquisi- 
tions. I say ‘ respective,’ instead of mutual acquisitions, 
because there was nothing mutual about it, or them. Neither 
our classics, our philosophy, nor our mathematics would 
seem to have been the same, but each man apparently had 
a science, or a language of his own, and which had been 
derived from the institution where he had been taught. In 
the classics I was much the strongest, particularly in the 
quantities, but Jason had the best of it in mathematics. In 
spite of his conceit, his vulgarity, his English, his provin- 
cialism, and the awkwardness with which he wore his tar- 
dily acquired information, this man had strong points about 
him, and a native shrewdness that would have told much 
more in his favour had it not been accompanied by a cer- 
tain evasive manner, that caused one constantly to suspect 
his sincerity, and which often induced those who were ac- 
customed to him, to imagine he had a sneaking propensity 
that rendered him habitually hypocritical. Jason held New 
York in great contempt; a feeling he was not always dis- 
posed to conceal, and of necessity his comparisons were 
usually made with the state of things in Connecticut, and 
much to the advantage of the latter. To one thing, how- 
ever.. he was much disposed to defer, and that was money. 


S AT ANSTOE. 


47 


Connecticut had not then, nor has it now, a single indivi- 
dual who would be termed rich in New York ; and Jason, 
spite ol his provincial conceit, spite of his overweening no- 
tions of moral and intellectual superiority, could no more 
prevent this profound deference for wealth, than he could 
substitute for a childhood of vulgarity and neglect, the grace, 
refinement and knowledge which the boys of the more for- 
tunate classes in life obtain as it might be without knowing 
it. Yes, Jason bowed down to the golden calf, in spite of 
his puritanism, his love of liberty, his pretension to equality 
and the general strut of his disposition and manner. 

Such is an outline of the character and qualifications of the 
man whom I found, on my return from college, at the head 
of Mr. Worden’s school. We soon became acquainted, and 
I do not know which got the most ideas from the other, in 
course of the first fortnight. Our conversation and argu- 
ments were free, almost to rudeness, and little mercy was 
shown to our respective prejudices. Jason was ultra level- 
ing in his notions of social intercourse, while I had the 
opinions of my own colony, in which the distinctions of 
classes are far more strongly marked than is usual in New 
England, out of Boston, and its immediate association. Still 
Jason deferred to names, as well as money, though it was 
in a way very different from my own. New England was, 
and is, lo}rul to the crown ; but having the right to name 
many of its own governors, and possessing many other 
political privileges through the charters that were granted to 
her people, in order to induce them to settle that portion of 
the continent, they do not always manifest the feeling in a 
way to be agreeable to those who have a proper reverence 
for the crown. Among other points, growing out of this 
difference in training, Jason and I had sundry arguments on 
the subject of professions, trades and callings. It was evi- 
dent he fancied the occupation of a schoolmaster next in 
honour to that of a clergyman. The clergy formed a spe- 
cies of aristocracy, according to his notions ; but no man 
could commence life under more favourable auspices, than 
by taking a school. The following dialogue occurred be- 
tween us, on this subject ; and I was so much struck with 
the novelty of my companion’s notions, as to make a note of 
it, as soon as we parted. 


48 


S ATANSTOE. 


“ I wonder your folks don’t think of giving you suthin' 
to do, Corny,” commenced Jason, one day, after our ac- 
quaintance had ripened into a sort of belligerent intimacy. 
“ You ’re near nineteen, now, and ought to begin to think 
of bringing suthin’ in, to pay for all the outgoin’s.” 

By “ your folks,” Jason meant the family of Littlepage; 
and the blood of that family quickened a little within me, 
at the idea of being profitably employed, in the manner in- 
timated, because I had reached the mature and profitable 
age of nineteen. 

“ I do not understand you exactly, Mr. Newcome, by 
your bringing something in,” answered I, with dignity 
enough to put a man of ordinary delicacy on his guard. 

“ Bringing suthin’ in is good English, I hope, Mr. Little- 
page. I mean that your edication has cost your folks 
enough to warrant them in calling on you for a little inte- 
rest. How much do you suppose, now, has been spent on 
your edication, beginning at the time you first went to Mr. 
Worden, and leaving off the day you quitted Newark?” 

“ Really, I have not the smallest notion ; the subject has 
never crossed my mind.” 

“ Did the old folks never say anything to you about it ? 
— never foot up the total ?” 

“ I am sure it is not easy to see how this could be done, 
for I could not help them in the least.” 

“ But your father’s books would tell that, as doubtless it 
all stands charged against you.” 

“ Stands charged against me ! — How, sir ! do you imagine 
my father makes a charge in a book against me, whenever 
he pays a few pounds for my education ?” 

“ Certainly ; how else could he tell how much you have 
had? — though, on reflection, as you are an only child, it 
does not make so much difference. You probably will get 
all, in the end.” 

“ And had I a brother, or a sister, do you imagine, Mr. 
Newcome, each shilling we spent would be set down in a 
book, as charges against us ?” 

“ How else, in natur’, could it be known which had had 
the most, or any sort of justice be done between you ?” 

“ Justice would be done, by our common father’s giving 
to each just as much of his own money as he might see fit. 


SATAN STOE. 


49 

What is it to me, if he chose to give my brother a few hun- 
dred pounds more than he chose to give to me? The money 
is his, and he may do with it as he choose.” 

“ An hundred pounds is an awful sight of money !” ex- 
claimed Jason, betraying by his countenance how deeply he 
felt the truth of this. “ If you have had money in such 
large sums, so much the more reason why you should set 
about doing suthin’ to repay the old gentleman. Why not 
set up a school?” 

“ Sir!” 

“ Why not set up a school, I say? You might have had 
this of mine, had you been a little older ,* but once in, fast 
in, with me. Still, schools are wanted, and you might get 
a tolerable good recommend. I dare say your tutor would 
furnish a certificate.” 

This word “recommend” was used by Jason for “recom- 
mendation ;” the habit of putting verbs in the places of sub- 
stantives, and vice versa , being much in vogue with him. 

“ And do you really think that one who is destined to 
inherit Satanstoe, would act advisedly to set up a school? 
Recollect, Mr. Newcome, that my father and grandfather 
have both borne the king’s commission ; and that the last 
bears it, at this very moment, through his representative, the 
Governor.” 

“ What of all that? What better business is there than 
keeping a good school ? If you are high in your notions, 
get to be made a tutor in that New Jersey college. Recol- 
lect that a tutor in a college is somebody. I did hope for 
such a place, but having a Governor’s son against me, as a 
candidate, there was no chance.” 

“ A Governor’s son a candidate for a tutorship in a col- 
lege ! You are pleased to trifle with me, Mr. Newcome.” 

“ It ’s true as the gospel. You thought some smaller fish 
put me down, but he was the son of the Governor. But, 
why do you give that vulgar name to your father’s farm — 
Satanstoe is not decent ; yet, Corny, I’ve heard you use 
it before your own mother !” 

“ That you may hear every day, and my mother use it, 
too, before her own son. What fault do you find with the 
name of Satanstoe?” 

“ Fault ! — In the first place it is irreligious and profane; 

5 


50 


S ATANSTOE. 


then it is ungenteel and vulgar, and only fit to be used in 
low company. Moreover, it is opposed to history and 
revelation, the Evil One having a huff, if you will, but no 
toes. Such a name couldn’t stand a fortnight before public 
opinion in New England.” 

“Yes, that may be very true; but we do not care 
enough for His Satanic Majesty in the colony of New York, 
to treat him with so much deference. As for the 4 huff’s,’ 
as you call them ” 

“ Why, what do you call ’em, Mr. Littlepage?” 

“ Hoofs, Mr. Newcome ; that is the New York pronun- 
ciation of the word.” 

“ I care nothing for York pronunciation, which every- 
body knows is Dutch and full of corruptions. You ’ll never 
do anything worth speaking of in this colony, Corny, until 
you pay more attention to your schools.” 

“ I do not know what you call attention, Mr. Jason, unless 
we have paid it already. Here, I have the caption, or 
rather preamble of a law, on that very subject, that I copied 
out of the statute-book on purpose to show you, and which 
I will now read in order to prove to you how things really 
stand in the colony.” 

“ Read away,” rejoined Jason, with an air of sufficient 
disdain. 

Read I did, and in the following sententious and compre- 
hensive language, viz : — “ Whereas the youth of this colony 
are found, by manifold experience, to be not inferior in 
their natural geniuses to the youth of any other country in 
the world, therefore be it enacted, &c.* ** 

*This quotation would seem to be accurate, and it is somewhat 
curious to trace the reason why a preamble so singular should have 
been prefixed to the law. Was it not owing to the oft-repeated and 
bold assertions of Europeans, that man deteriorated in this hemisphere ? 
Any American who has been a near observer of European opinion, 
even in our day, must have been frequently amused at the expression 
of surprise and doubt that so often escapes the residents of the Old 
World, when they discover anything that particularly denotes talent 
coming from the New. I make little question that this extraordinary 
preamble is a sort of indirect answer to an imputation that wa? 

known to be as general, in that age, as it was felt to be unjust. My 
own experience would lead me to think native capacity more abun. 
dant in America than in the midland countries of Europe, and quite 
as frequently met with as in Italy itself; and I have often hear<J 


SAT ANSTOE. 


51 

“ There, sir,” I said in exultation, “ you have chapter K 
nnd verse for the true character of the rising generation in 
the colony of New York.” 

“ And what does that preamble lead to ?” demanded 
Jason, a little staggered at finding the equality of our New 
York intellects established so clearly by legislative enact- 
ment. 

“ It is the preamble to an act establishing the free schools 
of New York, in which the learned languages have now 
been taught these twenty years; and you will please to re- 
member that another law has not long been passed estab- 
lishing a college in town.” 

“ Well, curious laws sometimes do get into the statute- 
books, and a body must take them as he finds them. I 
dare say Connecticut might have a word to say on the same 
subject, if you would give her a chance. Have you heard 
the wonderful news from Philadelphia, Corny, that has just 
come among us ?” 

“ I have heard nothing of late ; for you know I have 
been over in Rockland, with Dirck Follock, for the last two 
weeks, and news never reaches that family, or indeed that 
county.” 

“ No, that is true enough,” answered Jason, drily ; “ News 
and a Dutchman have no affinity, or attraction, as we would 
say in philosophy ; though there is gravitation enough on 
one side, ha ! boy ?” 

Here Jason laughed outright, for he was always delighted 
whenever he could get a side-hit at the children of Holland, 
whom he appeared to regard as a race occupying a position 
between the human family and the highest class of the 
unintellectual animals. But it is unnecessary to dwell 
longer on this dialogue, my object being merely to show the 
general character of Jason’s train of thought, in order to 

teachers, both English and French, admit that their American and 
West-India scholars were generally the readiest and cleverest in their 
schools. The great evil under which this country labours, in this 
respect, is the sway of numbers, which is constantly elevating medi- 
ocrity and spurious talent to high places. In America we have a 
higher average of intelligence, while we have far less of (he higher 
class ; and I attribute the latter fact to the control of those who have 
never enjoyed the means of appreciating excellence. — E ditor, 


52 


SATANSTOE. 


be better understood when I come to connect his opinion* 
with his acts. 

Dirck and myself were much together after my return 
from college. I passed weeks at a time with him, and ha 
returned my visits with the utmost freedom and good-will. 
Each of us had now got his growth, and it would have 
done the heart of Frederick of Prussia good, to have seen 
my young friend after he had ended his nineteenth year. 
In stature he measured exactly six feet three, and he gave 
every promise of filling up in proportion. Dirck was none 
of your roundly-turned, Apollo-built fellows, but he had 
shoulders that his little, short, solid, but dumpy-looking 
mother, who was of the true stock, could scarcely span, 
when she pulled his head down to give him a kiss; which 
she did regularly, as Dirck told me himself, twice each 
year; that is to say, Christmas and New-Year. His com- 
plexion was fair, his limbs large and well proportioned, his 
hair light, his eyes blue, and his face would have been 
thought handsome by most persons. I will not deny, how- 
ever, that there was a certain ponderosity, both of mind and 
body, about my friend, that did not very well accord with 
the general notion of grace and animation. Nevertheless, 
Dirck was a sterling fellow, as true as steel, as brave as a 
game-cock, and as honest as noon-day light. 

Jason was a very different sort of person, in many essen- 
tials. In figure, he was also tall, but he was angular, loose- 
jointed and swinging — slouching would be the better word, 
perhaps. Still, he was not without strength, having worked 
on a farm until he was near twenty ; and he was as active 
as a cat ; a result that took the stranger a little by surprise, 
when he regarded only his loose, quavering sort of build. 
In the way of thought, Jason would think two feet to Dirck’s 
one; but I am far from certain that it was always in so 
correct a direction. Give the Dutchman time, he was very 
apt to come out right ; whereas Jason, I soon discovered, 
was quite liable to come to wrong conclusions, and particu- 
larly so in all matters that were a little adverse, and which 
affected his own apparent interests. Dirck, moreover, was 
one of the bcst-natured fellows that breathed ; it being almost 
impossible to excite him to anger ; when it did come, how- 
ever, the earthquake was scarcely more terrific. I have 


S AT ANSTOE. 


53 


Been him enraged, and would as soon encounter a wild-boar, 
in an open field, as run against his course, while in the fit. 

Modesty will hardly permit me to say much of myself. 
I was well-grown, active, strong, for my years ; and, I am 
inclined to think, reasonably well-looking ; though I would 
prefer that this much should be said by any one but myself. 
Dirck and I often tried our manhood together, when young- 
sters, and I was the better chap until my friend reached his 
eighteenth year, when the* heavy metal of the young Dutch 
giant told in our struggles. After that period was past, I 
found Dirck too much for me, in a close gripe, though my 
extraordinary activity rendered the inequality less apparent 
than it might otherwise have proved. I ought not to apply 
the term of “ extraordinary” to anything about myself, but 
the word escaped me unconsciously, and I shall let it stand. 
One thing I will say, notwithstanding, let the reader think 
of it as he may : I was good-natured and well-disposed to 
my feliow-creatures, and had no greater love of money than 
was necessary to render me reasonably discreet. 

Such is an outline of the characters and persons of three 
of the principal actors in the scenes I am about to relate ; 
scenes that will possess some interest for those who love to 
read accounts of adventures in a new country, however 
much they may fail in interesting others, when I speak of 
the condition and events of the more civilized condition of 
society, that was enjoyed, even in my youth, in such old 
counties as Westchester, and such towns as York. 


CHAPTER IV. 

“ Let us, then, be up and doing, 

With a heart for any fate; 

Still achieving, still pursuing, 

Learn to labour and to wait.” 

Longfellow. 

The spring of the year I was twenty, Dirck and myself 
paid our first visit to town, in the characters of young men. 
5* 


54 


SATAN STOE. 


Although Satanstoe was not more than five-and-twenty 
miles from New York, by the way of King’s-Bridge, the 
road we always travelled in order to avoid the ferry, it was 
by no means as common to visit the capital as it has since 
got to be. I know gentlemen who pass -in and out from 
our neighbourhood, now, as often as once a fortnight, or 
even once a week ; but thirty years since this was a thing 
very seldom done. My dear mother always went to town 
twice a year ; in the spring to pass Easter week, and in the 
autumn to make her winter purchases. My father usually 
went down four times, in the course of the twelve months, 
but he had the reputation of a gadabout, and was thought 
by many people to leave home quite as much as he ought 
to do. As for my grandfather, old age coming on, he sel- 
dom left home now, unless it were to pay stated visits to 
certain old brother campaigners who lived within moderate 
distances, and with whom he invariably passed weeks each 
summer. 

The visit I have mentioned occurred some time after 
Easter, a season of the year that many of our country fa- 
milies were in the habit of passing in town, to have the 
benefit of the daily services of Old Trinity, as the Hebrews 
resorted to Jerusalem to keep the feast of the passover. My 
mother did not go to town this year, on account of my 
father’s gout, and I was sent to supply her place with my 
aunt Legge, who had been so long accustomed to have one 
of the family with her at that season, that I was substituted. 
Dirck had relatives of his own, with whom he staid, and 
thus every thing was rendered smooth. In order to make a 
fair start, my friend crossed the Hudson the week before, 
and, after taking breath at Satanstoe for three days, we left 
the Neck for the capital, mounted on a pair of as good 
roadsters as were to be found in the county : and that is 
saying a good deal ; for the Morrises, and de Lanceys, and 
Van Cortlandts all kept racers, and sometimes gave us good 
sport, in the autumn, over the county course. West Ches- 
ter, to say no more than she deserved, was a county with 
a spirited gentry, and one of which no colony need ba 
ashamed. 

My mother was a tender-hearted parent, and full of 
anxiety in behalf of an only child. She knew that travel- 


SATANSTOE. 55 

ling always has more or less of hazard, and was desirous 
we should be off betimes, in order to make certain of our 
reaching town before the night set in. Highway robbers, 
Heaven be praised ! were then, and are still, unknown to 
the colonies ; but there were other dangers that gave my 
excellent parent much concern. All the bridges were not 
considered safe; the roads were, and are yet, very circuitous, 
and it was possible to lose one’s way; while it was said 
persons had been known to pass the night on Harlem com- 
mon, an uninhabited waste that lies some seven or eight 
miles on our side of the city. My mother’s first care, there- 
fore, was to get Dirck and myself off early in the morning; 
in order to do which she rose with the light, gave us our 
breakfasts immediately afterwards, and thus enabled us to 
quit Satanstoe just as the sun had burnished the eastern sky 
with its tints of flame-colour. 

Dirck was in high good-humour that morning, and, to 
own the trutth, Corny did not feel the depression of spirits 
which, according to the laws of propriety, possibly ought to 
- have attended the first really free departure of so youthful 
an adventurer from beneath the shadows of the paternal 
roof. We went our way laughing and chatting like two girls 
just broke loose from boarding-school. I had never known 
Dirck more communicative, and I got certain new insights 
into his feelings, expectations and prospects, as we rode along 
the colony’s highway that morning, that afterwards proved to 
be matters of much interest with us both. We had not got 
a mile from the chimney-tops of Satanstoe, ere my friend 
broke forth as follows : — 

“ I suppose you have heard, Corny, what the two old 
gentlemen have been at, lately ?” 

“ Your father and mine? — I have not heard a syllable of 
any thing new.” 

“They have been suing out, before the Governor and 
Council, a joint claim to that tract of land they bought of the 
Mohawks, the last, time they were out together on service, 
in the colony militia.” 

I ought to mention, here, that though my predecessors 
had made but few campaigns in the regular army, each had 
made several in the more humble capacity of a militia 
officer. 


56 


SATANSTOE. 


“This is news tome, Dirck,” I answered. “ Whjf 
should the old gentlemen have been so sly about such a 
thing?” 

“ I cannot tell you, lest they thought silence the best way 
to keep off the yankees. You know, my father has a 
great dread of a yankee’s getting a finger into any of his 
bargains. He says the yankees are the locusts of the west.” 

“ But, how came you to know any thing about it, .Dirck ?” 

“ I am no yankee, Corny.” 

“ And your father told you , on the strength of this recom- 
mendation ?” 

“ He told me, as he tells me most things that he thinks it 
best I should know. We smoke together, and then we talk 
together.” 

“ I would learn to smoke too, if I thought I should get 
any useful information by so doing.” 

“ Dere is much to be l’arnt from ter pipe !” said Dirck, 
dropping into a slightly Dutch accent, as frequently hap- 
pened with him, when his mind took a secret direction to- 
wards Holland, though in general he spoke English quite as 
well as I did myself, and vastly better than that miracle of 
taste, and learning, and virtue, and piety, Mr. Jason New- 
come, A. B., of Yale, and prospective president of that, or 
some other institution. 

“ So it would seem, if your father is telling you secrets 
all the time you are smoking together. But where is this 
land, Dirck?” 

“ It is in the Mohawk country — or, rather, it is in the 
country near the Hampshire Grants, and at no great dis- 
tance from the Mohawk country.” 

“ And how much may there be of it ?” 

“ Forty thousand acres ; and some of it of good, rich 
flats, they say ; such as a Dutchman loves.” 

“ And your father and mine have purchased all this land 
in company, you say — share and share alike, as the law 
yers call it.” 

“ Just so.” 

“ Pray how much did they pay for so large a tract of 
land ?” 

Dirck took time to answer this question. He first drew 
from his breast a pocket-book, which he opened as well as 


SATANSTOE. 


57 


he could under the motion of his roadster, for neither of us 
abated his speed, it being indispensable to reach town before 
dark. My friend succeeded at length in putting his hand on 
the paper he wanted, which he gave to me. 

“ There,” he said ; “ that is a list of the articles paid to 
the Indians, which I have copied, and then there have been 
several hundred pounds of fees paid to the Governor an 
his officers.” 

I read from the list, as follows ; the words coming out by 
jerks, as the trotting of my horse permitted. “ Fifty blankets, 
each with yellow strings and yellow trimmings ; ten iron 
pots, four gallons each; forty pounds of gunpowder; seven 
muskets ; twelve pounds of small beads ; ten strings of wam- 
pum ; fifty gallons of rum, pure Jamaica, and of high proof; 
a score of jews-harps, and three dozen first quality English- 
made tomahawks.” 

“Well, Dirck,” I cried, as soon as through reading, 
“ this is no great matter to give for forty thousand acres 
of land, in the colony of New York. I dare say a hundred 
pounds currency ($250) would buy every thing here, even 
to the rum and the first quality of English-made toma- 
hawks.” 

“ Ninety-six pounds, thirteen shillings, seven pence ‘ t’ree 
fart’inV was the footing of the whole bill,” answered Dirck 
deliberately, preparing to light his pipe; for he could smoke 
very conveniently while trotting no faster than at the rate 
of six miles the hour. 

“ I do not find that dear for forty thousand acres ; I suppose 
the muskets, and rum, and other things were manufactured 
expressly for the Indian trade.” 

“ Not they, Corny: you knowhow it is with the old gen- 
tlemen ; — they are as honest as the day.” 

“ So much the better for them, and so much the better 
for us ! But what is to be done with this land, now they 
own it ?” 

Dirck did not answer, until we had trotted twenty rods ; 
for by this time the pipe was at work, and the moment the 
smoke was seen he kept his eye on it, until he saw a bright 
light in front of his nose. 

“ The first thing will be to find it, Corny. When a patent 
is signed and delivered, then you must send forth some 


58 


SATANSTOE. 


proper person to find the land it covers. I have heard of a 
gentleman who got a grant of ten thousand acres, five years 
since; and though he has had a hunt for it every summer 
since, he has not been able to find it yet. To be sure, ten 
thousand acres is a small object to look for, in the woods.” 

“And our fathers intend to find this land as soon as the 
season opens ?” 

“ Not so fast, Corny; not so fast ! That was the scheme 
of your father’s Welsh blood, but mine takes matters more 
deliberately. Let us wait until next year, he said, and then 
we can send the boys. By that time, too, the war will take 
some sort of a shape, and we shall know better how to care 
for the children. The subject has been fairly talked over 
between the two patentees, and we are to go early next 
spring, not this.” 

The idea of land-hunting was not in the least disagree, 
able to me ; nor was it unpleasant to think that I stood in 
reversion, or as heir, to twenty thousand acres of land, in 
addition to those of Satanstoe. Dirck and I talked the 
matter over, as we trotted on, until both of us began to re- 
gret that the expedition was so far in perspective. 

The war to which Dirck alluded, had broken out a few 
months before our visit to town : a Mr. Washington, of Vir- 
ginia — the same who has since become so celebrated as the 
Col. Washington of Braddock’s defeat, and other events at 
the south — having been captured, with a party of his men, 
in a small work thrown up in the neighbourhood of the 
French, somewhere on the tributaries of the Ohio ; a river 
that is known to run into the Mississippi, a vast distance to 
the west. I knew very little then, nor do I know much now 
of these remote regions, beyond the fact that there are such 
places, and that they are sometimes visited by detachments, 
war-parties, hunters, and other adventurers from the colo 
nies. To me, it seems scarce worth fighting about such 
distant and wild territory; for ages and ages must elapse 
before it can be of any service for the purposes of civiliza- 
tion. Both Dirck and myself regretted that the summer 
would be likely to go by without our seeing the enemy ; for 
we came of families that were commonly employed on such 
occasions. We thought both our fathers might be out ; though 
even that was a point that still remained under discussion. 


SATANSTOE. 


59 

We dined and baited at Kingsbridge, intending to sup ia 
town. While the dinner was cooking, Dirck and I walked 
out on the heights that overlook the Hudson ; for I knew 
less of this noble river than I wished to know of it. We 
conversed as we walked ; and my companion, who knew 
the river much better than myself, having many occasions 
to pass up and down it, between the village of Haverstraw 
and town, in his frequent visits to his relatives below, gave 
me some useful information. 

“ Look here, Corny,” said Dirck, after betraying a good 
deal of desire to obtain a view r of some object in the distance, 
along the river-side ; “ Look here, Corny, do you see yonder 
house, in the little bay below us, with the lawn that extends 
down to the water, and that noble orchard behind it?” 

I saw the object to which Dirck alluded. It was a house 
that stood near the river, but sheltered and secluded, with 
the lawn and orchard as described ; though at the distance 
of some two or three miles all the beauties of the spot could 
not be discovered, and many of them had to be received on 
the faith of my companion’s admiration. Still I saw very 
plainly, all the principal objects named ; and, among others, 
the house, the orchard, and the lawn. The building was of 
stone — as is common with most of the better sort of houses in 
the country — was long, irregular, and had that air of solid 
comfort about it, which it is usual to see in buildings of that 
description. The walls were not whitewashed, according to 
the lively tastes of our Dutch fellow-colonists, who appear 
to expend all their vivacity in the pipe and the brush, but 
were left in their native grey ; a circumstance that rendered 
the form and dimensions of the structure a little less distinct, 
at a first glance, than they might otherwise have proved. 
As I gazed at the spot, however, I began to fancy it a charm, 
to find the picture thus sobered down ; and found a pleasure 
in drawing the different angles, and walls, and chimneys, 
and roofs, from this back-ground, by means of the organ of 
sight. On the whole, I thought the little sequestered bay, 
the wooded and rocky shores, the small but well distributed 
lawn, the orchard, with all the other similar accessories, 
formed together one of the prettiest places of the sort I had 
ever seen. Thinking so, I was not slow in saying as much to 
my companion. I was thought to have some taste in these 


60 


SATANSTOE. 


matters, and had been consulted on the subject of laying 
out grounds by one or two neighbours in the county. 

“Whose house is it, Dirck 1” I enquired; “and how 
came you to know anything about it]” 

“ That is Lilacsbush,” answered my friend ; “ and it be- 
longs to my mother’s cousin, Herman Mordaunt.” 

I had heard of Herman, or, as it is pronounced, Harman 
Mordaunt. He was a man of considerable note in the 
colony, having been the son of a Major Mordaunt, of the 
British army, who had married the heiress of a wealthy 
Dutch merchant, whence the name of Herman ; which had 
descended to the son along with the money. The Dutch 
were so fond of their own blood, that they never failed to give 
this Mr. Mordaunt his Christian name; and he was usually 
known in the colony as Herman Mordaunt. Further than 
this, I knew little of the gentleman, unless it might be that 
he was reputed rich, and was admitted to be in the best 
society, though not actually belonging to the territorial or 
political aristocracy of the colony. 

“As Herman Mordaunt is your mother’s cousin, I sup- 
pose, Dirck,” I resumed, “ that you have been at Lilacs- 
bush, and ascertained whether the inside of the house is as 
pleasant and respectable as the outside.” 

“ Often, Corny ; while Madam Mordaunt lived, my mo- 
ther and I used to go there every summer. The poor lady 
is now dead, but I go there still.” 

“Why did you not ride on as far as Lilacsbush, and levy 
a dinner on your relations ? I should think Herman Mor- 
daunt would feel hurt, were he to learn that an acquaintance, 
or a relation, had put up at an inn, within a couple of miles 
of his own house. I dare say he knows both Major and 
Capt. Littlepage, and I protest I shall feel it necessary to 
send him a note of apology for not calling. These 
things ought not to be done, Dirck, among persons of a 
certain stamp, and who are supposed to know what is 
proper.” 

“ This would be all right enough, Corny, had Herman 
Mordaunt, or his daughter, been at Lilacsbush ; but they 
live in Crown Street, in town, in winter, and never come out 
here until after the Pinkster holidays, let them come when 
they may.” 


SATAN STOE. 


61 


“ Oh ! he is as great a man as that, is he? — a town and 
country house; after all, I do not know whether it would 
do to be quite so free with one of his standing, as to go to 
dine with him without sending notice.” 

O 

“ Nonsense, Corny. Who hesitates about stopping at a 
gentleman’s door, when he is travelling ? Herman Mor- 
daunt would have given us a hearty welcome, and I should 
have gone on to Lilacsbush, did I not know that the family 
is certain to be in town at this season. Easter came early 
this year, and to-morrow will be the first day of the Pink- 
ster holidays. As soon as they are over, Herman Mor- 
daunt and Anneke will be out here to enjoy their lilacs and 
roses.” 

“ Oh, ho ! there is an Anneke, as well as the old gentle- 
man. Pray, how old may Miss Anneke be, Master 
Dirck ?” 

As this question was asked, I turned to look my friend in 
the face, and I found that his handsome, smooth, fair Dutch 
lineaments were covered with a glow of red, that it was not 
usual to see extended so far from his ruddy cheeks. Dirck 
was too much of a man, however, to turn away, or to try to 
hide blushes so ingenuous; but he answered stoutly — 

“ My cousin, Anneke Mordaunt, is just turned of seven- 
teen ; and, I ’ll tell you what, Corny — ” 

“Well — I am listening, with both ears, to hear your 
what — Out with it, man ; both ears are open.” 

“ Why, Anneke (On-na -kay), is one of the very prettiest 
girls in the colony ! — What is more, she is as sweet and 
goot” — Dirck grew Dutch, as he grew animated — “ as she 
is pretty.” 

I was quite astounded at the energy and feeling with which 
this was said. Dirck was such a matter-of-fact fellow, that 
I had never dreamed he could be sensible to the passion of 
love ; nor had I ever paused to analyze the nature of our 
own friendship. We liked each other, in the first place, 
most probably, from habit; then, we were of characters so 
essentially different, that our attachment was influenced by 
that species of excitement which is the child of opposition. 
As we grew older, Dirck’s good qualities began to command 
my respect, and reason entered more into my affection for 
him. I was well convinced that my companion could, and 
6 


SATAN STOE. 


62 

would, prove to be a warm friend ; but the possibility of hia 
ever becoming a lover, had not before crossed my mind. 
Even then, the impression made was not very deep or last- 
ing, though I well remember the sort of admiration and 
wonder with which I gazed at his flushed cheek, animated 
eye, and improved mien. For the moment, Dirck really 
had a commanding and animated air. 

“ Why, Anneke is one of the prettiest girls in the colony 1” 
my friend had exclaimed. 

“ And your cousin 

“ My second cousin. —Her mother’s father and my mo- 
ther’s mother were brother and sister.” 

“ In that case, I shall hope to have the honour of being 
introduced, one of these days, to Miss Anneke Mordaunt, 
who is just turned of seventeen, and is one of the prettiest 
girls in the colony, and is as good as she is pretty.” 

“ I wish you to see her, Corny, and that before we go 
home,” Dirck replied, all his philosophy, or phlegm, which- 
ever the philosophy of other people may term it, returning ; 
“ come ; let us go back to the inn ; our dinner will be get- 
ting cold.” 

I mused on my friend’s unusual manner, as we walked 
back towards the inn ; but it was soon forgotten, in the 
satisfaction produced by eating a good, substantial meal of 
broiled ham, with hot potatoes, boiled eggs, a beefsteak, 
done to a turn, with the accessions of pickles, cold-slaw, 
apple-pie, and cider. This is a common New York tavern 
dinner, for the wayfarer ; and, I must say, I have got to 
(ike it. Often have I enjoyed such a repast, after a sharp 
forenoon’s ride ; ay, and enjoyed it more than I have re- 
lished entertainments at which have figured turkies, oysters, 
hams, hashes, and other dishes, that have higher reputations. 
Even turtle-soup, for which we are somewhat famous in 
New York, has failed to give me the same delight. 

Dirck, to do him justice, ate heartily ; for it is not an easy 
matter to take away his appetite. As usual, I did most of 
the talking; and that was with our landlady, who, hearing 
1 was a son of her much-esteemed and constant customer, 
Major Littlepage, presented herself with the dessert and 
cheese, and did me the honour to commence a discourse. 
Her name was Light ; and light was she certain to cast on 


S AT ANSTOE. 


63 


everything she discussed ; that is to say, innkeeper’s light ; 
which partakes somewhat of the darkness that is so apt 
to overshadow no small portion of the minds of her many 
customers. 

“ Pray, Mrs. Light,” I asked, when there was an opening, 
which was not until the good woman had exhausted her 
breath in honour of the Littlepages, “ do you happen to 
know anything of a family, hereabouts, of the name of Mor- 
daunt ?” 

“ Do I happen to know, sir ! — Why, Mr. Littlepage, you 
might almost as well have asked me, if I had ever heard of 
a Van Cortlandt, or a Philipse, or a Morris, or any other of 
the gentry hereabouts. Mr. Mordaunt has a country-place, 
and a very pretty one it is, within two miles and a half of 
us ; and he and Madame Mordaunt never passed our door, 
when they went into the country to see Madame Van Cort- 
landt, without stopping to say a word, and leave a shilling. 
The poor lady is dead ; but there is a young image of her 
virtues, that is coming a’ter her, that will be likely to do 
some damage in the colony. She is modesty itself, sir; so 
I thought it could do her no harm, the last time she was 
here, just to tell her, she ought to be locked up, for the 
thefts she was likely to commit, if not for them she had 
committed already. She blushed, sir, and looked for all the 
world like the shell of the most delicate boiled lobster you 
ever laid eyes on. She is truly a charming young lady !” 

“ Thefts of hearts, you mean of course, my good Mrs. 
Light?” 

“Of nothing else, sir; young ladies are apt to steal 
hearts, you know. My word for it, Miss Anneke will turn 
out a great robber, after her own fashion, you know, sir.” 

“And whose hearts is she likely to run away with, pray? 
I should be pleased to hear the names of some of the suf- 
ferers.” 

“ Lord, sir! — she is too young to have done much yet , 
but wait a twelvemonth, and I’ll answer the question.” 

I could see all this time that Dirck was uneasy, and had 
some amusement in watching the workings of his counte- 
nance. My malicious intentions, however, were suddenly 
interrupted. As if to prevent further discourse, and, at the 


64 


SATANSTOE. 


same time, further espionage , my young friend rose from 
table, ordering the horses and the bill. 

During the ride to town, no more was said of Lilacsbush, 
Herman Mordaunt, or his daughter Anneke. Dirck was 
silent, but this was his habit after dinner, and I was kept a 
good deal on the alert in order to find the road which 
crossed the common, it being our desire to go in that direc- 
tion. It is true, we might have gone into town by the way 
of Bloomingdale, Greenwich, the meadows and the Collect, 
and so down past the common upon the head of Broadway ; 
but my mother had particularly desired we would fall into 
the Bowery Lane, passing the seats that are to be found in 
that quarter, and getting into Queen Street as soon as pos- 
sible. By taking this course she thought we should be less 
likely to miss our way within the town itself, which is cer- 
tainly full o.f narrow and intricate passages. My uncle 
Legge had removed into Duke Street, in the vicinity of 
Hanover Square; and Queen Street, I well knew, would lead 
us directly to his door. Queen Street, indeed, is the great 
artery of New York, through which most of its blood cir- 
culates. 

It was drawing towards night when we trotted up to the 
stable, where we left our horses, and obtaining a black to 
shoulder our portmanteaus, we began to thread the mazes 
of the capital on foot. New York was certainly, even in 
1757, a wonderful place for commerce! Vessels began to 
be seen some distance east of Fly Market, and there could 
not have been fewer than twenty ships, brigs, and schooners, 
lying in the East river, as we walked down Queen Street. 
Of course I include all descriptions of vessels that go to 
sea, in this estimate. At the present moment, it is probable 
twice that number would be seen. There Dirck and I 
stopped more than once, involuntarily, to gaze at the exhi- 
bitions of wealth and trade that offered themselves as we 
went deeper into the town. My mother had particularly 
cautioned me against falling into this evidence of country 
habits, and I felt much ashamed at each occurrence of the 
weakness ; but I found it irresistible. At length my friend 
and I parted ; he to go to the residence of his aunt, while 
I proceeded to that of mine. Before separating, however, 
we agreed to meet next morning in the fields at the head of 


SATANSTOE. 65 

Broadway, on the common, which, as it was understood, 
was to be the scene of the Pinkster sports. 

My reception in Duke Street was cordial, both on the 
part of my uncle and on the part of my aunt; the first 
being a good-hearted person, though a little too apt to run 
into extrava gance on the subjedroflhe rights of the rabble. 
I was~pleased with the welcome I received, enjoyed an ex- 
cellent hot supper, to which we sat down at half-past eight, 
my aunt being fond of towm hours, both dining and supping 
a little later than my mother, as being more fashionable and 
genteel.* As I was compelled to confess fatigue, after so 
long a ride, as soon as we quitted the table I retired to my 
own room. 

The nexf day was the first of the three that are devoted 
to Pinkster, the great Saturnalia of the New York blacks. 
Although this festival is always kept with more vivacity at 
Albany than in York, it is far from being neglected, even 
now, in the latter place. I had told my aunt, before I left 
her, I should not wait for breakfast, but should be up with 

* The dinner of the last half century is, in one sense, but a sub- 
stitute for the petits soupers of the century or two that preceded. It 
is so entirely rational and natural, that the cultivated and refined 
should meet for the purposes of social enjoyment after the business 
of the day has terminated, that the supper has only given place to the 
same meal under another name, and at hours little varying from those 
of the past. The Parisian dines at half-past six, remaining at table 
until eight. The Englishman, later in all his hours, and more pon- 
derous in all his habits, sits down to table about the time the French- 
man gets up ; quitting it between nine and ten. The Italian pays a 
tribute to his climate, and has his early dinner and light supper, both 
usually alone, the habits of the country carrying him to the opera 
and the conversazione for social communion. But what is the Ameri- 
can ? A jumble of the same senseloss contradictions in his social 
habits, as lie is fast getting to be in his political creeds and political 
practices ; a being that is in transitu , pressed by circumstances on the 
one side, and by the habit of imitation on the other ; unwilling, 
almost unable, to think and act for himself. The only American who 
is temporarily independent in such things, is the unfledged provincial, 
fresh from his village conceit and village practices, who, until corrected 
by communion with the world, fancies the south-east corner of the 
north-west parish, in the town of Hebron, in the county of Jericho, 
and the State of Connecticut, to be the only portion of this globe 
that is perfection. If he should happen to keep a school, or conduct 
a newspaper, the community becomes, in a small degree, the partici- 
pant of his rare advantages and vast experience! — Editor. 

6 * 


A 


S AT AN STOE . 


66 

the sun, and off in quest of Dirck, in order that we might 
enjoy a stroll along the wharves before' it was time to repair 
to the common, where the fun was to be seen. Accordingly 
I got out of the house betimes, though it was an hour later 
than I had intended ; for I heard the rattling of cups in the 
little parlour, the sign that the table was undergoing the 
usual process of arrangement for breakfast. It then occurred 
to me that most, if not all of the servants, seven in number, 
would be permitted to enjoy the holiday ; and that it might 
be well if I took all my meals, that day, in the fields. Run- 
ning back to the room, I communicated this intention to 
Juno, the girl I found doing Pompey’s work, and left the 
housea>n a jump. There was no great occasion for starv- 
ing, I thought, in a town as large and as full of eatables as 
New York ; and the result fully justified this reasonable 
opinion. 

Just as I got into Hanover Square, I saw a grey-headed 
negro, who was for turning a penny before he engaged in 
the amusements of the day, carrying two pails that were 
scoured to the neatness of Dutch fastidiousness, and which 
were suspended from the yoke he had across his neck and 
shoulders. He cried “ White wine — white wine !” in a clear 
sonorous voice; and I was at his side in a moment. White 
wine was, and is still, my delight of a morning; and I 
bought a delicious draught of the purest and best of a Com- 
munipaw vintage, eating a cake at the same time. Thus 
refreshed, I proceeded into the square, the beauty of which 
had struck my fancy as I walked through it the previous 
evening. To my surprise, whom should I find in the very 
centre of Queen Street, gaping about him with a most in- 
domitable Connecticut air, but Jason Newcome ! A brief 
explanation let me into the secret of his presence. His boyu 
had all gone home to enjoy the Pinkster holiday, with the 
black servants of their respective families; and Jason had 
seized the opportunity to pay his first visit to the great capi- 
tal of the colony. Pie was on his travels, like myself. 

“And what has brought you down here?” I demanded, 
the pedagogue having already informed me that he had put 
up at a tavern in the suburbs, where horse-keeping and 
lodgings were “ reasonable.” “ The Pinkster fields are up 
near the head of Broad way } on the common.” 


SAT AN STOE . 


67 


“ So I hear,” answered Jason ; “ but I want to see a ship 
and all the sights this way, in the first place. It will be 
time enough for Pinkster, two or three hours hence, if a 
Christian ought even to look at such vanities. Can you tell 
me where I am to find Hanover Square, Corny?” 

“ You are vn it now, Mr. Newcome ; and to my fancy, a 
very noble area it is !” 

“ This Hanover Square!” repeated Jason. “Why, its 
shape is not that of a square at all ; is is nearer a triangle .” 

“ What of that, sir? By a square in a town, one does 
not necessarily understand an area with four equal sides 
and as many right angles, but an open space that is left for 
air and beauty. There are air and beauty enough to satisfy 
any reasonable man. A square may be a parallelogram, 
or a triangle, or any other shape one pleases.” 

“ This, then, is Hanover Square ! — a New York square, 
or a Nassau Hall square, Corny; but not a Yale College 
square, take my word for it. It is so small, moreover !” 

“ Small ! — the width of the street at the widest end must 
be near a hundred feet; I grant you it is not half that at 
the other end, but that is owing to the proximity of the 
houses.” 

“ Ay, it is all owing to the proximity of the houses, as 
you call it. Now, according to my notion, Hanover Square, 
of which a body hears so much talk in the country, ought 
to have had fifty or sixty acres in it, and statues of the 
whole House of Brunswick, besides. Why is that nest of 
houses left in the middle of your square?” 

“ It is not, sir. The square ceases when it reaches them . 
They are too valuable to be torn down, although there has 
been some talk of it. My uncle Legge told me, last evening, 
that those houses have been valued as high as twelve thou- 
sand dollars ; and some persons put them as high as six 
thousand pounds.” 

This reconciled Jason to the houses ; for he never failed 
to defer to money, come in what shape it would. It was 
the only source of human distinction that he could clearly 
comprehend, though he had some faint impressions touching 
the dignity of the crown, and the respect due to its repre- 
sentatives. 

“ Corny,” said Jason, in an under tone, and taking ma 


68 


SATANSTOE 


by the arm to lead me aside, though no one was near, like 
a man who has a great secret to ask, or to communicate, 
“ what was that I saw you taking for your bitters, a little 
while ago ?” 

“ Bitters ! I do not understand you, Jason. Nothing 
bitter have I tasted to-day ; nor can I say I have any great 
wish to put anything bitter into my mouth.” 

“ Why, the draught you got from the nigger who is now 
coming back across the square, as you call it, and which 
you seemed to enj’y particularly. I am dry, myself, and 
should wonderfully like a drink.” 

“ Oh ! that fellow sells ‘ white wine,’ and you will find it 
delicious. If you want your ‘ bitters,’ as you call them, 
you cannot do better than stop him, and give him a penny.” 

“ Will he let it go so desperate cheap as that?” demanded 
Jason, his eyes twinkling with a sort of “ bitters” expecta- 
tion. 

“ That is the stated price. Stop him boldly ; there is no 
occasion for all this Connecticut modesty. Here, uncle, this 
gentleman wishes a cup of your white wine.” 

Jason turned away in alarm, to see who was looking on; 
and, when the cup was put into his hand, he shut his eyes, 
determined to gulp its contents at a swallow, in the most 
approved “ bitters” style. About half the liquor went down 
his throat, the rest being squirted back in a small white 
stream. 

“ Buttermilk, by Jingo !” exclaimed the disappointed peda- 
gogue, who expected some delicious combination of spices 
with rum. St. Jingo was the only saint, and a “ darnation” 
or “ darn you,” were the onlv oaths his puritan education 
ever permitted him to use. 


SATANSTOE. 


69 


CHAPTER V. 

“ Here ’s your fine clams ! 

As white as snow ! 

On Rockaway these clams do grow.” 

New York Cries. 

It was some time before Jason’s offended dignity and dis- 
appointment would permit him to smile at the mistake; and 
we had walked some distance towards Old Slip, where I 
was to meet Dirck, before the pedagogue even opened his 
lips. Then, the only allusion he made to the white wine, 
was to call it “a plaguy Dutch cheat;” for Jason had im- 
plicitly relied on having that peculiar beverage of his caste, 
known as “ bitters.” What he meant by a Dutch cheat, I 
do not know ; unless he thought the buttermilk was particu- 
larly Dutch, and this buttermilk an imposition. 

Dirck was waiting for me at the Old Slip; and, on in- 
quiry, I found he had enjoyed his draught of white wine as 
well as myself, and was ready for immediate service. We 
proceeded along the wharves in a body, admiring the dif- 
ferent vessels that lined them. About nine o’clock, all three 
of us passed up Wall Street, on the stoops of which, no 
small portion of its tenants were already seated, enjoying 
the sight of the negroes, as, with happy “ shining” faces 
they left the different dwellings, to hasten to the Pinkster 
field. Our passage through the street attracted a good deal 
of attention ; for, being all three strangers, it was not to be 
supposed we could be thus seen in a body, without exciting 
a remark. Such a thing could hardly have been expected 
in London itself. 

After showing Jason the City Hall, Trinity Church, and 
the City Tavern, we went out of town, taking the direction 
of a large common that the King’s officers had long used 
for a parade-ground, and which has since been called the 
Park, though it would be difficult to say why, since it is 
barely a paddock in size, and certainly has never been used 
to keep any animals wilder than the boys of the town. A 
^ark, I suppose, it will one day become, though it has little 


70 


SATAN STOE . 


at present that comports with my ideas of such a thing 
On this common, then, was the Pinkster ground, which was 
now quite full of people, as well as of animation. 

There was nothing new in a Pinkster frolic, either to 
Dirck, or to myself,' though Jason gazed at the whole pro- 
cedure with wonder. He was born within seventy miles of 
that very spot, but had not the smallest notion before, of 
such a holiday as Pinkster. There are few blacks in Con- 
necticut, I believe ; and those that are there, are so ground 
down in the Puritan mill, that they are neither fish, flesh, 
nor red-herring, as we say of a non-descript. No man ever 
heard of a festival in New England, that had not some im- 
mediate connection with the saints, or with politics. 

Jason was at first confounded with the noises, dances, 
music, and games that were going on. By this time, nine- 
tenths of the blacks of the city, and of the whole country 
within thirty or forty miles, indeed, were collected in 
thousands in those fields, beating banjoes, singing African 
songs, drinking, and worst of all, laughing in a way that 
seemed to set their very hearts rattling within their ribs. 
Everything wore the aspect of good-humour, though it was 
good-humour in its broadest and coarsest forms. Every 
sort of common game was in requisition, while drinking was 
far from being neglected. Still, not a man was drunk. A 
drunken negro, indeed, is by no means a common thing. 
The features that distinguish a Pinkster frolic from the usual 
scenes at fairs, and other merry-makings, however, were of 
African origin. It is true, there are not now, nor were 
there then, many blacks among us of African birth ; but 
the traditions and usages of their original country were so 
far preserved as to produce a marked difference between 
this festival, and one of European origin. Among other 
things, some were making music, by beating on skins drawn 
over the ends of hollow logs, while others were dancing to 
it, in a manner to show that they felt infinite delight. This, 
in particular, was said to be a usage of their African pro- 
genitors. 

Hundreds of whites were walking through the fields, 
amused spectators. Among these last were a great many 
children of the better class, who had come to look at the 
enjoyment of those who attended them, in their own ordinary 


S AT ANSTOE. 


71 


amusements. Many a sable nurse did I see that day, cha- 
peroning her young master, 01 young mistress, or both to- 
gether, through the various groups ; demanding of all, and 
receiving from all, the respect that one of these classes was 
accustomed to pay to the other. 

A great many young ladies between the ages of fifteen 
and twenty were also in the field, either escorted by male 
companions, or, what was equally as certain of producing 
deference, under the care of old female nurses, who be- 
longed to the race that kept the festival. We had been in 
the field ourselves two hours, and even Jason was beginning 
to condescend to be amused, when, unconsciously, I got 
separated from my companions, and was wandering through 
the groups by myself, as I came on a party of young girls, 
who were under the care of two or three wrinkled and 
grey-headed negresses, so respectably attired, as to show at 
once they were confidential servants in some of the better 
families. As for the young ladies themselves, most were 
still of the age of school girls ; though there were some of 
that equivocal age, when the bud is just breaking into the 
opening flower, and one or two that were even a little older ; 
young women in forms and deportment, though scarcely so 
in years. One of a party of two of the last, appeared to 
me to possess all the grace of young womanhood, rendered 
radiant by the ingenuous laugh, the light-hearted playful- 
ness, and the virgin innocence of sweet seventeen. She 
was simply, but very prettily dressed, and everything about 
her attire, air, carriage and manner, denoted a young lady 
of the better class, who was just old enough to feel all the 
proprieties of her situation, while she was still sufficiently 
youthful to enjoy all the fun. As she came near me, it 
seemed as if I knew her; but it was not until I heard her 
sweet, mirthful voice, that I recollected the pretty little 
thing in whose behalf I had taken a round with the 
butcher’s boy, on the Bowery road, near six years before. 
As her party came quite near the spot where I stood, what 
was only conjecture at first, was reduced to a certainty. 

In the surprise of the moment, happening to catch the 
eye of the young creature, I was emboldened to make her 
a low bow/ At first she smiled, like one who fancies she 
recognises an acquaintance ; then her face became scarlet, 


72 


SAT ANSTOE. 


and she returned my bow with a very lady-like, but, at the 
same time, a very distant curtsey; upon which, bending her 
blue eyes to the ground, she turned away, seemingly to 
speak to her companion. After this, I could not advance 
to speak, though I was strongly in hopes the old black 
nurse who w r as with her would recognise me, for she had 
manifested much concern about me on the occasion of the 
quarrel with the young butcher. This did not occur; and 
old Katrinke, as I heard the negress called, jabbered away, 
explaining the meaning of the different ceremonies of her 
race, to a cluster of very interested listeners, without paying 
any attention to me. The tongues of the pretty little things 
went, as girls’ tongues will go, though my unknown fair 
one maintained all the reserve and quiet of manner that 
comported with her young womanhood, and apparent con- 
dition in life. 

“ Dere, Miss Anneke !” exclaimed Katrinke, suddenly; 
“ dere come a genttleum dat will bring a pleasure, I know.” 

“Anneke” I repeated, mentally, and “gentleman that 
will cause pleasure by his appearance.” “ Can it be 
Dirck ?” I thought. Sure enough, Dirck it proved to be, 
W’ho advanced rapidly to the group, making a general 
salute, and finishing by shaking my beautiful young stran- 
ger’s hands, and addressing her by the name of “ cousin 
Anneke.” This, then, was Annie Mordaunt, as the young 
lady was commonly called in the English circles, the only 
child and heiress of Herman Mordaunt, of Crown Street 
and of Lilacsbush. Well, Dirck has more taste than I had 
ever given him credit for ! Just as this thought glanced 
through my mind, my figure caught my friend’s eye, and, 
with a look of pride and exultation, he signed to me to 
draw nearer, though I had managed to get pretty near as it 
was, already. 

“ Cousin Anneke,” said Dirck, who never used circumlo- 
cution, when direct means were at all available, “ this is 
Corny Littlepage, of whom you have heard me speak so 
often, and for whom 1 ask one of your best curtsies and 
sweetest smiles.” 

Miss Mordaunt was kind enough to comply literally, both 
curtsying and smiling precisely as she had been desired to 
do, though I could see she w T as also slightly disposed to 


SAT AN ST OE. 


73 


laugh. I was still making my bow, and mumbling some 
unintelligible compliment, when Katrinke gave a little ex- 
clamation, and using the freedom of an old and confidential 
servant, she eagerly pulled the sleeve of her young mis- 
tress, and hurriedly whispered something in her ear. Anneke 
coloured, turned quickly towards me, bent her eyes more 
boldly and steadily on my face — and then it was that I fan- 
cied the sweetest smile which mortal had ever received, or 
that with which I had just before been received, was much 
surpassed. 

“ Mr. Littlepage, I believe, is not a total stranger, cousin 
Dirck,” she said. “ Katrinke remembers him, as a young 
gentleman who once did me an important service, and now 
I think l can trace the resemblance myself. I allude to the 
boy who insulted me on the Bowery Road, Mr. Littlepage, 
and your handsome interference in my behalf.” 

“ Had there been twenty boys, Miss Mordaunt, an insult 
to you would have been resented by any man of ordinary 
spirit.” 

I do not know that any youth, who was suddenly put to 
his wits to be polite, or sentimental, or feeling, could have 
done a great deal better than that / So Anneke thought too, 
I fancy, for her colour increased, rendering her ravishingly 
lovely, and she looked surprisingly pleased. 

“ Yes,” put in Dirck with energy, — “ let twenty, or a 
hundred try it if they please, Anneke, men or boys, and 
they ’ll find those that will protect you.” 

“ You for one, of course, cousin Dirck,” rejoined the 
charming girl, holding out her ‘hand towards my friend, 
with a frankness I could have dispensed with in her ; “ but, 
you will remember, Mr. Littlepage, or Master Littlepage as 
he then was, was a stranger, and I had no such claim on 
him , as I certainly have on you.” 

“ Well, Corny, it is odd you never said a word of this to 
me ! when I was showing him Lilacsbush, and talking of 
you and of your father, not a word did he say on the sub 
ject.” 

“ I did not then know it was Miss Mordaunt I had been 
so fortunate as to serve ; but here is Mr. Newcome at your 
elbow, Follock, and dying to be introduced, as he sees I 
have been.” 


7 


74 


SAT ANSTOE. 


Anneke turned to smile and curtsey again to Jason, who 
made his bow in a very school-master sort of a fashion, 
while I could see that the circumstance I had not boasted 
of my exploit gave it new importance in the sweet crea- 
ture’s eyes. As for Jason, he had no sooner got along with 
the introduction, — the first., I fancy, he had ever gone regu- 
larly through, — than, profiting by some questions Miss 
Mordaunt was asking Dirck about his mother and the rest 
of the family, he came round to me, drew me aside by a 
jerk of the sleeve, and gave me to understand he had some- 
thing for my private ear. 

“ I did not know before that you had ever kept school, 
Corny,” he half whispered earnestly. 

“ How do you know it now, Mr. Newcome, since the 
thing never happened ?” 

“ How comes it, then, that this young woman called you 
Master Littlepage?” 

“ Bah ! Jason,, wait a year or two, and you will begin to 
get truer notions of us New-Yorkers.” 

“ But I heard her with my own ears — Master Littlepage; 
as plain as words were ever called.” 

“ Well, then, Miss Mordaunt must be right, and I have 
forgotten the affair. I must once have kept a woman’s 
school, somewhere, in my younger days, but forgotten it.” 

“ Now this is nothing (nawthin’, as expressed) but your 
desperate York pride, Corny ; but I think all the better of 
you for it. Why, as it could not have taken place after 
you went to college, you must have got the start of even 
me ! But, the Rev. Mr. Worden is enough to start a youth 
with a large capital, if he be so minded. I admit he does 
understand the dead languages. It is a pity he is so very 
dead in religious matters.” 

“Well — well — I will tell you all about it another time; 
you perceive, now, that Miss Mordaunt wishes to move on, 
and does not like to quit us too abruptly. Let us follow.” 

Jason complied, and for an hour or two we had the plea- 
sure of accompanying the young ladies, as they strolled 
among the booths and different groups of that singular as- 
sembly. As has been said, most of the blacks had been 
born in the colony, but there were some native Africans 
among them. New York never had slaves on the system 


S AT AN STOE. 


75 


of the southern planters, or in gangs of hundreds, to labour 
in the fields under overseers, and who lived apart in cabins 
of their own ; but, our system of slavery was strictly domes- 
tic, the negro almost invariably living under the same roof 
with the master, or, if his habitation was detached, as cer- 
tainly sometimes happened, it was still near at hand, leav- 
ing both races as parts of a common family. In the coun- 
try, the negroes never toiled in the field, but it was as ordinary 
husbandmen ; and, in the cases of those who laboured on 
their own property, or as tenants of some extensive land- 
lord, the black did his work at his master’s side. Then all, 
or nearly all our household servants were, and still are, 
blacks, leaving that department of domestic economy almost 
exclusively in their hands, with the exception of those cases 
in which the white females busied themselves also in such 
occupations, united to the usual supervision of the mistresses. 
Among the Dutch, in particular, the treatment of the negro 
was of the kindest character, a trusty field-slave often hav- 
ing quite as much to say on the subject of the tillage and 
the crops, as the man who owned both the land he worked, 
and himself. 

A party of native Africans kept us for half an hour. The 
scene seemed to have revived their early associations, and 
they were carried away with their own representation of 
semi-savage sports. The American-born blacks gazed at 
this group with intense interest also, regarding them as so 
many ambassadors from the land of their ancestors, to en- 
lighten them in usages and superstitious lore, that were 
more peculiarly suited to their race. The last even 
endeavoured to imitate the acts of the first, and, though the 
attempt was often ludicrous, it never failed on the score of 
intention and gravity. Nothing was done in the way of 
caricature, but much in the way of respect and affection. 

Lest the habits of this generation should pass away and 
be forgotten, of which I see some evidence, I will mention 
a usage that was quite common among the Dutch, and 
which has passed in some measure, into the English families 
that have formed connections with the children of Holland. 
Two of these intermarriages had so far brought the Little- 
pages within the pale, that the usage to which I allude was 
practised in my own case. The custom was this : when a 


76 


S AT AN STOE . 


child of the family reached the age of six, or eight, a young 
slave of the same age and sex, was given to him, or her, 
with some little formality, and from that moment the for- 
tunes of the two were considered to be, within the limits of 
their respective pursuits and positions, as those of man and 
wife. It is true, divorces do occur, but it is only in cases 
of gross misconduct, and quite as often the misconduct is on 
the side of the master, as on that of the slave. A drunkard 
may get in debt, and be compelled to part with his blacks ; 
this one among the rest ; but this particular negro remains 
with him as long as anything remains. Slaves that seri- 
ously misbehave, are usually sent to the islands, where the 
toil on the sugar plantations proves a very sufficient punish- 
ment. 

The day I was six, a boy was given to me, in the manner 
I have mentioned ; and he remained not only my property, 
but my factotum, to this moment. It was Yaap, or Jacob, 
the negro to whom I have already had occasion to allude. 
Anneke Mordaunt, whose grandmother was of a Dutch 
family, it will be remembered, had with her there, in the Pink- 
ster field, a negress of just her own age, who was called 
Mari ; not Mary, or Maria ; but the last, as it would be 
pronounced without the final a. This Mari was a buxom, 
glistening, smooth-faced, laughing, red-lipped, pearl-toothed, 
black-eyed hussy, that seemed born for fun ; and who was 
often kept in order by her more sedate and well-mannered 
young mistress with a good deal of difficulty. My fellow 
was on the ground, somewhere, too ; for I had given him 
permission to come to town to keep Pinkster ; and he was 
to leave Satanstoe, in a sloop, within an hour after I left it 
myself. The wind had been fair, and I made no question 
of his having arrived ; though, as yet, I had not seen him. 

I could have accompanied Anneke, and her party, all day, 
through that scene of unsophisticated mirth, and felt no want 
of interest. Her presence immediately produced an im- 
pression ; even the native Africans moderating their manner, 
and lowering their yells, as it might be, the better to suit 
her more refined tastes. No one, in our set, was too digni- 
fied to laugh, but Jason. The pedagogue, it is true, often 
expressed his disgust at the amusements and antics of the 
negroes, declaring they were unbecoming human beings 


SATANSTOE. 


77 


and otherwise manifesting that disposition to hypercriticism, 
which is apt to distinguish one who is only a tyro in his 
own case. 

Such was the state of things, when Mari came rushing 
up to her young mistress, with distended eyes and uplifted 
hands, exclaiming, on a key that necessarily made us all 
sharers in the communication — 

“ Oh ! Miss Anneke ! — What you t’ink, Miss Anneke ! 
Could you ever s’pose sich a t’ing, Miss Anneke !” 

“ Tell me at once, Mari, what it is you have seen, or 
heard ; and leave off these silly exclamations said the 
gentle mistress, with a colour that proved she was unused 
to her own girl’s manner. 

“ Who could t’ink it, Miss Anneke ! Dese, here, werry 
niggers have sent all ’e way to deir own country, and have 
had a lion cotched for Pinkster !” 

This was news, indeed, if true. Not one of us all had 
ever seen a lion ; wild animals, then, being exceedingly 
scarce in the colonies, with the exception of those that were 
taken in our own woods. I had seen several of the small 
brown bears, and many a wolf, and one stuffed panther, in 
my time ; but never supposed it within the range of possi- 
bilities, that I could be brought so near a living lion. In- 
quiry showed, nevertheless, that Mari was right, with the 
exception of the animal’s having been expressly caught for 
the occasion. It was the beast of a showman, who was also 
the proprietor of a very active and amusing monkey. The 
price of admission was a quarter of a dollar, for adult whites; 
children and negroes going in for half-price. These pre- 
liminaries understood, it was at once settled that all who 
could muster enough of money and courage, should go in a 
body, and gaze on the king of beasts. I say, of courage ; 
for it required a good deal for a female novice to go near a 
living lion. 

The lion was kept in a cage, of course, which was placed 
in a temporary building of boards, that had been erected for 
the Pinkster field. As we drew near the door, I saw that 
the cheeks of several of the pretty young creatures who be- 
longed to the party of Anneke, began to turn pale ; a sign 
of weakness that, singular as it may appear, very sensibly 
extended itself to most of their attendant negresses. Mari 
7 * 


% 


78 


S AT ANSTOE. 


did not flinch, however; and, when it came to the trial, of 
that sex, she and her mistress were the only two who held 
out in the original resolution of entering. Some time was 
thrown away in endeavouring to persuade two or three of 
her older companions to go in with her ; but, finding it use- 
less, with a faint smile, Miss Mordaunt calmly said — 

“ Well, gentlemen, Mari and myself must compose the 
female portion of the party. I have never seen a lion, and 
would not, by any means, miss this opportunity. We shall 
find my friends waiting for such portions of us as shall not 
be eaten, on our return.” 

We were now near the door, where stood the man who 
received the money, and gave the tickets. It happened 
that Dirck had been stopped by a gentleman of his ac- 
quaintance, who had just left the building, and who was 
laughingly relating some incident that had occurred within. 
I stood on one side of Anneke, Jason on the other, while 
Mari was close in the rear. 

“ A quarter for each gentleman and the lady,” said the 
door-keeper, “ and a shilling for the wench.” 

On this hint, Jason, to my great surprise, (for usually he 
was very backward on such occasions,) drew out a purse, and 
emptying some silver into his hand, he said with a flourish — 
“ Permit me, Miss — it is an honour I covet ; a quarter 
for yourself, and a shilling for Mari.” 

I saw Anneke colour, and her eye turn hastily towards 
Dirck. Before I had time to say anything, or to do any- 
thing in fact, she answered steadily — 

“ Give yourself no trouble, Mr. Newcome ; Mr. Littlepage 
will do me the favour to obtain tickets for me.” 

Jason had the money in his fingers, and I passed him 
and bought the tickets, while he was protesting — 

“ It gave him pleasure — he was proud of the occasion — 
another time her brother could do the same for his sisters, 
and he had six,” and other matters of the sort. 

I simply placed the tickets in Anneke’s hand, who re- 
ceived them with an expression of thanks, and we all 
passed ; Dirck inquiring of his cousin, as he came up, if he 
should get her tickets. I mention this little incident as 
showing the tact of woman, and will relate all that pertains 
to it, before I proceed to other things. Anneke said nothing 


S AT ANSTOE. 


79 

on the subject of her tickets until we had left the booth, 
when she approached me, and with that grace and simpli- 
city which a well-bred woman knows how to use on such 
an occasion, and quietly observed — 

“ I am under obligations to you, Mr. Littlepage, for 
having paid for my tickets ; — they cost three shillings, I 
believe.” 

I bowed, and had the pleasure of almost touching Miss 
Mordaunt’s beautiful little hand, as she gave me the money. 
.At this instant, a jerk at my elbow came near causing me 
to drop the silver. It was Jason, who had taken this 
liberty, and who now led me aside with an earnestness of 
manner it was not usual for him to exhibit. I saw by the 
portentous look of the pedagogue’s countenance, and his 
swelling manner, that something extraordinary was on his 
mind, and waited with some little curiosity to learn what it 
might be. 

“Why, what in human natur’, Corny, do you mean?” 
he cried, almost angrily. “ Did ever mortal man hear of a 
gentleman’s making a lady pay for a treat ! Do you know 
you have made Miss Anneke pay for a treat ?” 

“ A treat, Mr. Newcome !” 

“ Yes, a treat, Mr. Corny Littlepage ! How often do you 
think young ladies will accompany you to shows, and balls, 
and other sights, if you make them, pay!” 

Then a laugh of derision added emphasis to Jason’s 
words. 

“ Pay! — could I presume to think Miss Mordaunt would 
suffer me to pay money for her, or for her servant ?” 

“ You almost make me think you a nat’ral ! Young men 
always pay for young women, and no questions asked. 
Did you not remark how smartly I offered to pay for this 
Miss, and how well she took it, until you stepped forward 
and cut me out ; — I bore it, for it saved me three nine- 
pences.” 

“ I observed how Miss Mordaunt shrunk from the fami- 
liarity of being called Miss, and how unwilling she was to 
let you buy the tickets ; and that I suspect was solely be- 
cause she saw you had some notion of what you call a 
treat.” 

I cannot enter into the philosophy of the thing, but cer- 


S AT ANSTOE. 


80 

tainly nothing is more vulgar in English, to address a 
young lady as Miss, without affixing a name, whereas I 
know it is the height of breeding to say Mademoiselle in 
French, and am told the Spaniards, Italians and Germans, 
use its synonyme in the same manner. I had been indignant 
at Jason’s familiarity when he called Anneke — the pretty 
Anneke! — Miss; and felt glad of an occasion to let him 
understand how I felt on the subject. 

“ What a child you be, a’ter all, Corny !” exclaimed the 
pedagogue, who was much too good-natured to take offence 
at a trifle. “ You a bachelor of arts ! But this matter 
must be set right, if it be only for the honour of my school. 
F 0 lh s ” — Jason never blundered on the words ‘ one’ or 
‘ people’ in this sense — “ Folks may think that you have 
been in the school since it has been under my care, and I 
wouldn’t for the world have it get abroad that a youth from 
my school had neglected to treat a lady under such circum- 
stances.” 

. Conceiving it useless to remonstrate with me any further, 
Jason proceeded forthwith to Anneke, with whom he begged 
permission to say a word in private. So eager was my 
companion to wipe out the stain, and so surprised was the 
young lady, who gently declined moving more than a step, 
that the conference took place immediately under my ob- 
servation, neither of the parties being aware that I necessa- 
rily heard or saw all that passed. 

“ You must excuse Corny, Miss,” Jason commenced, 
producing his purse again, and beginning to hunt anew for 
a quarter and a shilling ; “ he is quite j^oung, and knows 
nawthin’ worth speaking of, of the ways of mankind. Ah ! 
here is just the money — three ninepennies, or three York 
shillings. Here, Miss, excuse Corny, and overlook it all ; 
when he is older, he will not make such blunders.” 

“ I am not certain that I understand you, sir !” exclaimed 
Anneke, who had shrunk back a little at the 1 Miss,’ and 
who now saw Jason hold out the silver, with a surprise she 
took no pains to conceal. 

“ This is the price of the tickets — yes, that’s all. Naw- 
thin’ else, on honour. Corny, you remember, was so awful 
dumb as to let you pay, just as if you had been a gentle- 
man.” 


S AT AN STOE . 


81 


Anneke now smiled, and glancing at me at the same 
instant, a bright blush suffused her face, though the mean- 
ing of my eye, as I could easily see, strongly tempted her 
to laugh. 

“ It is very well as it is, Mr. Newcome, though I feel 
much indebted to your liberal intentions,” she said, turning 
to rejoin her friends ; “ it is customary in New York for 
ladies to pay, themselves, for everything of this nature. 
When I go to Connecticut, I shall feel infinitely indebted to 
you for another such offer.” 

Jason did not know what to make of it ! He long after 
insisted that the young lady was ‘ huffed,’ as he called it, 
and that she had refused to take the money merely because 
she was thus offended. 

“ There is a manner, you know, Corny,” he said, “ of 
doing even a genteel thing, and that is to do it genteelly. I 
much doubt if a genteel thing can be done ungenteelly. 
One thing I’m thankful for, and that is, that she don’t know 
that you ever were at the ‘ Seminarian Institute’ in your 
life such being the appellation Jason had given to that 
which Mr. Worden had simply called a ‘ Boys’ School.’ 
To return to the booth. 

The lion had many visitors, and we had some difficulty 
in finding places. As a matter of course, Anneke was put 
in front, most of the men who were in the booth giving way 
to her with respectful attention. Unfortunately, the young 
lady wore an exceedingly pretty shawl, in which scarlet 
was a predominant colour ; and that which occurred has 
been attributed to this circumstance, though I am far from 
affirming such to have been literally the case. Anneke, 
from the first, manifested no fear ; but the circle pressing 
on her from without, she got so near the cage that the beast 
thrust a paw through, and actually caught hold of the 
shawl, drawing the alarmed girl quite up to the bars. I 
was at Anneke’s side, and with a presence of mind that 
now surprises me, I succeeded in throwing the shawl from 
the precious creature’s shoulders, and of fairly lifting her 
from the ground and setting her down again at a safe dis- 
tance from the beast. All this passed so soon that half the 
persons present were unconscious of what had occurred 
until it was all over ,* and what astonishes me most is, that 


82 


SATANSTOE. 


I do not retain the least recollection of the pleasure I ought 
to have felt while my arm encircled Anneke Mordaunt’s 
slender waist, and while she was altogether supported by 
me. The keeper interfered immediately, and the lion re- 
linquished the shawl, looking like a disappointed beast when 
he found it did not contain its beautiful owner. 

Anneke was rescued before she had time fully to compre- 
hend the danger she had been in. Even Dirck could not 
advance to her aid, though he saw and comprehended the 
imminent risk ran by the being he loved best in the world ; 
but Dirck was always so slow ! I must do Jason the cre- 
dit to say that he behaved well, though so situated as to be 
of no real use. He rushed forward to assist Anneke, and 
remained to draw away the shawl, as soon as the keeper 
had succeeded in making the lion relinquish his hold. But, 
all this passed so rapidly, as to give little opportunity for 
noting incidents. 

Anneke was certainly well frightened by this adventure 
with the lion, as was apparent by her changing colour, and 
a few tears that succeeded. Still, a glass of water, and a 
minute or two, seated in a chair, were sufficient to restore 
her self-composure, and she remained with us, for half an 
hour, examining and admiring her terrible assailant. 

And, here, let me add, for the benefit of those who have 
never had an opportunity of seeing the king of beasts, that 
he is a sight well worthy to behold ! I have never viewed 
an elephant, which travelled gentlemen tell me is a still 
more extraordinary animal, though I find it difficult to ima- 
gine anything finer, in its way, than the lion which came 
so near injuring “sweet Anne Mordaunt.” I question if 
any of us were aware of the full extent of the clanger she 
ran, until we began to reflect on it coolly, after time and 
leisure were afforded. As soon as the commotion naturally 
produced at first, had subsided, the incident seemed forgot- 
ten, and we left the booth, after a long visit, expatiating on 
the animal, and its character, apparently in forgetfulness 
of that which, by one blow of his powerful paw, the lion 
might have rendered fatal to one of the very sweetest and 
happiest innocents of the whole province, but for the timely 
and merciful interposition of a kind providence. 

After the little affair of the tickets, I walked on with 


S AT AN STOE . 


83 


Anneke, who declared her intention of quitting the field, her 
escape beginning to affect her spirits, and she was afraid 
that some particularly kind friend might carry an exagge- 
rated account of what had happened to her father. Dirck 
offered to accompany her home, for Mr. Mordaunt kept no 
carriage ; or, at least, nothing that was habitually used as a 
town equipage. We had all gone as far as the verge of the 
Common with Anneke, when the sweet girl stopped, looked 
at me earnestly, and, while her colour changed and tears 
rose to her eyes, she said, — 

“ Mr. Littlepage, I am just getting to be fully conscious of 
what I owe to you. The thing passed so suddenly, and I 
was so much alarmed, that I did not know how to express 
myself at the time, nor am I certain that I do now. Believe 
me, notwithstanding, that I never can forget this morning, 
and I beg of you, if you have a sister, to carry to her the 
proffered friendship of Anneke Mordaunt, and tell her that 
her own prayers in behalf of her brother will not be more 
sincere than mine.” 

Before I could recollect myself, so as to make a suitable 
answer, Anneke had curtsied and walked away, with her 
handkerchief to her eyes. 


CHAPTER VI. 

“ Nay, be brief: 

I see into thy end, and am almost 
A man already.” 

Cymbeline. 

As Dirck accompanied Miss Mordaunt to her father’s 
house in Crown Street,* I took an occasion to give Jason 
the slip, being in no humour to listen to his lectures on the 
proprieties of life, and left the Pinkster field as fast as I 
could. Notwithstanding the size and importance of New 
York, a holiday like this could not fail to draw great crowds 


* Now, Liberty Street. 


S ATANSTOE. 


84 

of persons to witness the sports. In 1757, James de Lan- 
cey was at the head of the government of the province, as 
indeed he had been, in effect, for much of his life ; and I re- 
member to have met his chariot, carrying the younger chil- 
dren of the family to the field, on my way into the town. 
As the day advanced, carriages of one sort and another 
made their appearance in Broadway, principally conveying 
the children of their different owners. All these belonged 
to people of the first mark ; and I saw the Ship that denotes 
the arms of Livingston, the Lance, of the de Lanceys, the 
Burning Castle, of the Morrises, and other armorial bearings 
that were well known in the province. Carriages, certainly, 
were not as common in 1757 as they have since become; 
but most of our distinguished people rode in their coaches, 
chariots, or phaetons, or conveyances of some sort or other, 
when there was occasion to go so far out of town as the 
Common, which is the site of the present “ Park.” The 
roads on the island of Manhattan were very pretty and pic- 
turesque, winding among rocks and through valleys, being 
lined with groves and copses in a way to render all the 
drives rural and retired. Here and there, one came to a 
country-house, the residence of some person of importance, 
which, by its comfort and snugness, gave all the indications 
of wealth and of a prudent taste. Mr. Speaker Nicoll* had 

* The person meant here, was William Nicoll, Esquire, Patentee 
of Islip, a large estate on Long Island, that is still in the family, 
under a Patent granted in 1683. This gentleman was a son of Mr. 
Secretary Nicoll, who is supposed to have been a relative of Col. 
Nicoll, the first English Governor. Mr. Speaker Nicoll, as the son 
was called, in consequence of having filled that oflice for nearly a 
generation, was the direct ancestor of the Nicolls of Islip and Shelter 
Island, as well as of a branch long settled at Stratford, Connecticut. 
The house alluded to by Mr. Littlepage, as a relic of antiquity in hid 
day, — American antiquity, be it remembered, — was standing a few 
years since, if it be not still standing, at the point of j miction between 
the Old Boston Road and the New Road, and nearly opposite to the 
termination of the long avenue that led to Rosehill, originally a seat 
of the Watts’. The house stood a short distance above the present 
Union Square, and not far from that of the present Gramercy. It 
was, or is, a brick-house of one story, with a small court-yard in 
front; the House of Refuge being at a little distance on its right. 
If still standing, it must now be one of the oldest buildings of any 
sort, in a town of 400,000 souls ! As Mr. Speaker Nicoll resigned 
the chair in 1718, this house must be at least a hundred and thirty or 


S AT ANSTOE. 


85 


occupied a dwelling of this sort for a long series of years, 
that was about a league from town, and which is still stand- 
ing, as I pass it constantly in travelling between Satanstoe 
and York. I never saw the Patentee myself, as he died 
long before my birth ; but his house near town still stands, 
as 1 have said, a memorial of past ages ! 

The whole town seemed alive, and everybody had a de- 
sire to get a glance at the sports of the Pinkster Field ; though 
the more dignified and cultivated had self-denial enough to 
keep aloof, since it would hardly have comported with their 
years and stations to be seen in such a place. The war had 
brought many regiments into the province, however, and I 
met at least twenty young officers, strolling out to the scene 
of amusement, as I walked into town. I will confess I 
gazed at these youths with admiration, and not entirely 
without envy, as they passed me in pairs, laughing and 
diverting themselves with the grotesque groups of blacks 
that were occasionally met, coming in from their sports. 
These young men I knew had enjoyed the advantages of 
being educated at home, some of them, quite likely, in the 
Universities, and all of them amid the high civilization and 
taste of England. I say all of them, too hastily ; as there 
were young men of the colonies among them, who probably 
had not enjoyed these advantages. The easy air, self-pos- 
session, and quiet, what shall I call it? — insolence would 
be too strong a word, and a term that I, the son and grand- 
son of old king’s officers, would not like to apply, and yet 
it comes nearest to what I mean as applicable to the covert 
manner of these young men — but, whatever it was, that pecu- 
liar air of metropolitan superiority over provincial ignorance 
and provincial dependence, which certainly distinguished all 
the younger men of this class, had an effect on me, I find it 
difficult to describe. I was a loyal subject, loved the King, 
— most particularly since he was so identified with the Pro- 

* 

forty years old ; and it may bo questioned if a dozen as old, public or 
private, can be found on the whole island. 

As the regular family residences of the Nicolls were in Suffolk, or 
on their estates, it is probable that the abode mentioned was, in a 
measure, owing to an intermarriage with the Watts’, as much as to 
the necessity of the Speaker’s passing so much time at the seat of 
government. — Editor. 

8 




SATANSTOE. 


86 

testant succession, — loved all of the blood-royal, and wished 
for nothing more than the honour and lustre of the English 
crown. One thus disposed could not but feel amicably 
towards the King’s officers ; yet, I will confess, there were 
moments when this air of ill-concealed superiority, this 
manner that so much resembled that of the master towards 
the servant, the superior to the dependent, the patron to the 
client, gave me deep offence, and feelings so bitter, that I 
was obliged to struggle hard to suppress them. But this is 
anticipating, and is interrupting the course of my narrative, 
l am inclined to think there must always be a good deal of 
this feeling, where the relation of principal and dependant 
exists, as between distinct territories. 

I was a good deal excited, and a little fatigued with the 
walk and the incidents of the morning, and determined to 
proceed at once to Duke Street, and share the cold dinner 
of my aunt ; for few private families in York, that depended 
on regular cooks for their food, had anything served warm 
on their tables, for that and the two succeeding days. 
Here and there a white substitute was found, it is true, and 
we had the benefit of such an assistant at half-past one. It 
was the English servant of a Col. Mosely, an officer of the 
army, who was intimate at my uncle’s, and who had had 
the civility to offer a man for this occasion. I afterwards 
ascertained, that many officers manifested the same kind 
spirit towards various other families in which they visited 
on terms of friendship. 

Marriages between young English officers and our pretty, 
delicate York belles, were of frequent occurrence, and I 
had felt a twinge or two, on the subject of Anneke, that 
morning, as I passed the youths of the 55th, 60th, or Loyal 
Americans, 17th, and other regiments that were then in the 
province. 

My aunt was descending from the drawing-room, in din- 
ner dress — for that no lady ever neglects, even though she' 
dines on a cold dumpling. As I opened the street-door, 
Mrs. Legge was not coming down alone to take her seat at 
tabie, but, having some extra duty to perform in cpnse- 
quence of the absence of most of her household, she was 
engaged in that service. Seeing me, however, she stopped 
on the landing of the stairs, and beckoned me to approach. 


SATANSTOE. 87 

“ Corny,” she said, “ what have you been doing, my 
child, to have drawn this honour upon you ?” 

“ Honour ! — I am ignorant of having even received any. 
What can you mean, my dear aunt?” 

“ Here is Herman Mordaunt waiting to see you, in the 
drawing-room. He asked particularly for you ; — wishes to 
see you — expresses his regrets that you are not in, and 
talks only of you /” 

“ In which case, I ought to hasten up stairs in order to 
receive him, as soon as possible. I will tell you all about 
it at dinner, aunt ; — excuse me now.” 

Away I went, with a beating heart, to receive a visit 
from Anneke’s father. I can scarcely give a reason why 
this gentleman was usually called, when he was spoken of, 
and sometimes when he was spoken to, Herman Mordaunt ; 
unless, indeed, it were, that being in part of Dutch extrac- 
tion, the name which denoted the circumstance (Hermanus 
— pronounced by the Hollanders, Hermaanus,) was used by 
a portion of the population in token of the fact, and adopted 
by others in pure compliance. But Herman Mordaunt was 
he usually styled ; and this, too, in the way of respect, and 
not as coarse-minded persons affect to speak of their supe- 
riors, or in a way to boast of their own familiarity. I 
should have thought it an honour, at my time of life, to 
receive a visit from Herman Mordaunt ; but my heart fairly 
beat, as I have said, as I went hastily up stairs, to meet 
Anneke’s father. 

My uncle was not in, and I found my visiter waiting for 
me, alone, in the drawing-room. Aware of the state of the 
family, and of all families, indeed, during Pinkster, he had 
insisted on my aunt’s quitting him, while he looked over 
some new books that had recently been received from home ; 
among which was a new and very handsome edition of the 
Spectator, a work that enjoys a just celebrity throughout 
the colonies. 

Mr. Mordaunt advanced to receive me with studied po 
liteness, yet a warmth that could not well be counterfeited, 
the instant I approached. Nevertheless, his manner was 
easy and natural ; and to me he appeared to be the highest- 
bred man I had ever seen. 

“ I am thankful that the debt of gratitude I owe you, my 


S AT ANSTOE. 


88 

young friend,” he said, at once, and without preface of any 
sort, unless that of manner be so received, “ is due to the 
son of a gentleman I so much esteem as Evans Littlepage. 
A loyal subject, an honest man, and a well-connected and 
well-descended gentleman, like him, may well be the parent 
of a brave youth, who does not hesitate to face even lions, 
in defence of the weaker sex.” 

“ I cannot affect to misunderstand you, sir,” I answered ; 
“ and I sincerely congratulate you that matters are no worse; 
though you greatly overrate the danger. I doubt if even a 
lion would have the heart to hurt Miss Mordaunt, were she 
in his power.” 9 

I think this was a very pretty speech, for a youth of 
twenty ; and I confess I look back upon it, even now, with 
complacency. If I occasionally betray weakness of this 
character, I beg the reader to recollect that I am acting in 
the part of an honest historian, and that it is my aim to 
conceal nothing that ought to be known. 

Herman Mordaunt did not resume his seat, on account 
of the lateness of the hour, (half-past one) ; but he made 
me professions of friendship, and named Friday, the first 
moment when he could command the services of his domes- 
tics, when I should dine with him. The army had intro- 
duced later hours than was usual ; and this invitation was 
given for three o’clock ; it being said, at the time, as I well 
remember, that persons of fashion in London sat down to 
table even later than this. After remaining with me five 
minutes, Herman Mordaunt took his leave. Of course, I 
accompanied him to the door, where we parted with many 
bows. 

At dinner, I told my uncle and aunt all that had occurred, 
and was glad to hear them both speak so favourably of my 
new acquaintances. 

“ Herman Mordaunt might be a much more considerable 
man than he is,” observed my uncle, “ were he disposed to 
enter into public life. He has talents, a good education, a 
very handsome estate, and is well-connected in the colony, 
certainly; some say at home, also.” 

“ And Anneke is a sweet young thing,” added my aunt ; 
“ and, since Corny was to assist any young lady, I am 
heartily glad it was Anneke. She is an excellent creature, 


SATAN STOE. 


89 


and her mother was one of my most intimate friends, as 
she was of my sister Littlepage, too. You must go and 
inquire after her health, this evening, Corny. Such an at- 
tention is due, after what has passed all round.” 

Did I wish to comply with this advice? Out of all ques- 
tion ; and yet I was too young, and too little at my ease, to 
undertake this ceremony, without many misgivings. Luckily, 
Dirck came in, in the evening ; and my aunt repeating her 
opinion before my friend, he at once declared it was alto- 
gether proper, and that he thought Anneke would have a 
right to expect it. As he offered to be my companion, we 
were soon on our way to Crown Street, in which Mr. Mor- 
daunt owned and inhabited a very excellent house. We 
were admitted by Mr. Mordaunt himself, not one of his 
blacks having yet returned from the Pinkster field. 

Dirck appeared to be on the best terms, not only with 
Herman Mordaunt, but with his charming daughter. I had 
observed that the latter always called him “ cousin Dirck,” 
and I hardly knew whether to interpret this as a sign of par- 
ticular or of family regard. That Dirck was fonder of An- 
neke Mordaunt than of any other human being, I could easily 
see ,* and I confess that the discovery already began to cause 
uneasiness. I loved Dirck, and wished he loved any one 
else but the very being I feared he did. 

Herman Mordaunt showed me the way, up the noble, 
wide, mahogany-garnished staircase of his dwelling, and 
ushered us into a very handsome, though not very large, 
but well-lighted drawing-room. There sat Anneke, his 
daughter, in the loveliness of her maiden charms, a little 
more dressed than usual, perhaps, for she had three or four 
young and lovely girls with her, and five or six young men ; 
among whom were no less than three scarlet coats. 

I shall not attempt to conceal my weakness. Only twenty, 
inexperienced and unaccustomed to town society, I felt awk- 
ward and unpleasantly the instant I entered the room ; nor 
did the feeling subside during the first half-hour. Anneke 
came forward, one or two steps, to meet me ; and I could 
see, she was almost as much confused, as I was myself. 
She blushed, as she thanked me for the service I had ren- 
dered, and expressed her satisfaction that her father had 
been fortunate enough to find me at home, and had had an 
8 * 


90 


S AT ANSTOE. 


opportunity of saying a little of what he felt, on the occa- 
sion. She then invited me to be seated, naming me to the 
company, and telling me who two or three of the young 
ladies were. From these last I received sundry approving 
smiles ; which I took as so many thanks for serving their 
friend ; while I could not help seeing that I was an object 
of examination to most of the men present. The three 
officers, in particular, looked at me the most intently, and 
the longest. 

“ I trust, your little accident, which could have been of no 
great moment, in itself, since you escaped so well, did not 
have the effect to prevent you from enjoying the rare fun 
of this Pinkster affair ?” said one of the scarlet coats, as 
soon as the movement caused by my reception had subsided. 

‘‘You call it a ‘ little accident,’ Mr. Bulstrode,” returned 
Anneke, with a reproachful shake of her pretty head, “ but, 
I can assure you, it is not a trifle, to a young lady, to find 
herself in the paws of a lion.” 

“ Serious accident, then ; since, I see, you are resolved to 
consider yourself a victim rejoined the other ; “ but, not 
serious enough, I trust, to deprive you of the fun?” 

“ Pinkster fields, and Pinkster frolics, are no novelties to 
us, sir, as they occur every season ; and I am just old enough 
not to have missed one of them all, for the last twelve 
years.” 

“ We heard you had been ‘ out,” put in another red-coat, 
whom I had heard called Billings, “ accompanied by a little 
army, of what Bulstrode called, the Light Infantry.” 

Here three or four of the other young ladies joined in the 
discourse, at once, protesting against Mr. Bulstrode’s placing 
their younger sisters in the army, in so cavalier a manner ; 
an accusation that Mr. Bulstrode endeavoured to parry, by 
declaring his hopes of having them all, not only in the 
army, but in his own regiment, one day or other. At this, 
there was a certain amount of mirth, and various protesta- 
tions of an unwillingness to enlist ; in which, I was glad to 
see, that neither Anneke, nor her most intimate friend, Mary 
Wallace, saw fit to join. I liked their reserve of manner, 
far better than the girlish trifling of their companions ; and, 
I could see, that all the men respected them the more for it. 
There was a good deal of general and disjointed conversa- 


\ 


S AT ANSTOE. 


91 

tion that succeeded ; which I shall not pretend to follow or 
relate, but confine myself to such observations as had a 
bearing on matters that were connected with myself. 

As none of the young soldiers were addressed by their 
military titles, such things never occurring in the better 
circles, as I now discovered, and, least of all, in those con- 
nected with the army, I was not able, at the time, to ascer- 
tain the rank of the three red-coats ; though I afterwards 
ascertained, that the youngest was an ensign, of the name 
of Harris ; a mere boy, and the younger son of a member 
of Parliament. The next oldest, Billings, was a captain, 
and was said to be a natural son of a nobleman ; while 
Bulstrode was actually the oldest son of a baronet, of three 
or four thousand a year, and had already bought his way 
up as high as a Majority, though only four-and-twenty. 
This last was a handsome fellow, too; nor had I been an 
hour in his company, before I saw, plainly enough, that he 
was a strong admirer of Anneke Mordaunt. The other two 
evidently admired themselves too much, to have any very 
lively feelings on the subject of other persons. As for Dirck, 
younger than myself, and diffident, as well as slow by 
nature, he kept himself altogether in the back-ground, con- 
versing, most of the time, with Herman Mordaunt, on the 
subject of farming. 

We had been together an hour, and I had acquired suffi- 
cient ease to change my seat, and to look at a picture or 
two, which adorned the walls, and which were said to be 
originals, from the Old World; for, to own the truth, the 
art of painting has not made much progress in the colonies. 
We have painters, it is true, and one or two are said to be 
men of rare merit, the ladies being very fond of sitting to 
them for their portraits ; but these are exceptions. At a 
future day, when critics shall have immortalized the names 
of a Smybert, and a Watson, and a Blackburn, the people 
of these provinces will become aware of the talents they 
once possessed among them ; and the grandchildren of those 
who neglected these men of genius, in their day — ay, their 
descendants to the latest generations — will revenge the 
wrongs of merit and talent, to the end of civilized time. It 
is a failing of colonies to be diffident of their own opinions ; 
but I have heard gentlemen, who were educated at home, 


S AT ANSTOE. 


92 

and who possessed cultivated and refined tastes, affirm that 
the painters of Europe, when visiting this hemisphere, have 
retained all their excellence ; and have painted as freely and 
as well, under an American, as under a European sun. As 
for a sister art, the Thespian muse had actually made her 
appearance among us, five years before the time of my visit 
to town in 1757, or in 1752 ; a theatre having actually been 
built and opened in Nassau Street in 1753, with a company 
under the care of the celebrated Hallam, and his family. 
This theatre I had been -dying to visit, while it stood, for as 
yet I had never witnessed a theatrical performance ; but my 
mother’s injunctions prevented me from entering it while at 
college. “ When you are old enough, Corny,” she used to 
say, “ you shall have my permission to go as often as is 
proper ; but you are now of an age, when Shakspeare and 
Rowe might unsettle your Latin and Greek.” My task of 
obedience had not been very difficult, inasmuch as the build- 
ing in Nassau Street, the second regular theatre ever erected 
in British America, was taken down, and a church erected 
in its place.* The comedians went to the islands, and had 
not re-appeared on the continent down to the period of which 
I am now writing ; nor did their return occur until the fol- 
lowing year. That they were expected, however, and that 
a new house had been built for them, in another part of the 
town, I was aware, though month after month passed away, 
and the much-expected company did not appear. I had 
understood, however, that the large military force collecting 
in the colony, would be likely to bring them back soon ; and 
the conversation soon took a turn, that proved how much 
interest the young, the gay, and the fair, felt in the result. 
I was still looking at a picture, when Mr. Bulstrode ap- 
proached me, and entered into conversation. It will be 
remembered, that this gentleman was four years my senior ; 
that he had been at one of the universities ; was the heir to 
a baronetcy ; knew the world ; had risen to a Majority in 
the army, and was by nature, as well as training, agreeable, 
when he had a mind to be, and genteel. These circum- 
stances, I could not but feel, gave him a vast advantage over 
me; and I heartily wished that we stood anywhere but in 
the presence of Anneke Mordaunt, as he thus saw fit to 


* The church is now (1845) being converted into a Post-Offioe. 


SATANSTOE. 


93 

single me out for invidious comparison, by a sort of tete-a- 
tete , or aside. Still, I could not complain of his manner, 
which was both polite and respectful ; though I could scarce 
divest myself of the idea, that he was covertly amusing him- 
self, the whole time. 

“ You are a fortunate man, Mr. Littlepage,” he com- 
menced, “ in having had it in your power to do so import- 
ant a service to Miss Mordaunt. We all envy you your 
luck, while we admire your spirit, and I feel certain the 
men of our regiment will take some proper notice of it. 
Miss Anneke is in possession of half our hearts, and we 
should be still more heartless to overlook such a service.” 

I muttered some half-intelligible answer to this compli- 
ment, and my new acquaintance proceeded. 

“ I am almost surprised, Mr. Littlepage,” he added, “ that 
a man of your spirit does not come among us in times as 
stirring as these. They tell me both your father and grand- 
father served, and that you are quite at your ease. You 
will find a great many men of merit and fashion among us, 
and I make no doubt they would contribute to make your 
time pass agreeably enough. Large reinforcements are 
expected, and if you are inclined for a pair of colours, I 
think I know a battalion in which there are a vacancy or 
two, and which will certainly serve in the colonies. It 
would afford me great pleasure to help to further your views, 
should you be disposed to turn them towards the army.” 

Now all this was said with an air of great apparent 
frankness and sincerity, which I fancied was only the more 
visible from the circumstance that Anneke was so seated 
as unavoidably to hear every word of what was said. I 
observed that she even turned her eyes on me as I made 
my answer, though I did not dare so far to observe her in 
turn as to note their expression. 

“ I am very sensible, Mr. Bulstrode, of the liberality and 
kindness of your intentions,” I answered steadily enough, 
for pride came to my assistance, “ though I fear it will not 
be in my power to profit by it at once, if ever. My grand- 
father is still living, and he has much influence over me and 
my fortune, and I know it is his wish that I should remain 
at Satanstoe.” 

“ Where I” demanded Bulstrode, with more quickness 


SATANSTOE. 


94 

and curiosity than strictly comported with good-breeding 
perhaps. 

“ Satanstoe ; I do not wonder you smile, for it has an 
odd sound, but it is the name my grandfather has given the 
family place in Westchester. Given, I have said, though 
translated would be better, as I understand the present 
appellation is pretty literally rendered into English from 
the Dutch.” 

“ I like the name exceedingly, Mr. Littlepage, and I feel 
certain I should like your good, old, honest, Anglo-Saxon 
grandfather. But, pardon me, it is his wish you should 
remain at Satansfoot?” 

“ Satanstoe, sir ; we do not aspire to the whole foot. It 
is my grandfather’s wish that I remain at home until of 
age, which will not be now for some months.” 

“ By way of keeping you out of Satan’s footsteps, I sup- 
pose. Well, these old gentlemen are often right. Should 
you alter your views, however, my dear Littlepage, do not 
forget me, but remember you can count on one who has 
some little influence, and who will ever be ready to exert it 
in the behalf of one who has proved so serviceable to Miss 
Mordaunt. Sir Harry is a martyr to the gout, and talks 
of letting me stand in his place at the dissolution. In that 
case my wishes will naturally carry more weight. I like 
that name of Satanstoe amazingly !” 

“ I am infinitely obliged to you, Mr. Bulstrode, though 1 
will confess I have never looked forward to rising in the 
world by taxing my friends. One may own that he nas 
had some hopes founded on merit and honesty — ” 

“ Poh ! poh ! — my dear Littlepage, honesty is a very 
pretty thing to talk about, but I suppose you remember 
what Juvenal says on that interesting subject — “ probitas 
laudatur et alget .” I dare say you are fresh enough from 
college to remember that comprehensive sentiment.” 

“ I have never read Juvenal, Mr. Bulstrode, and never 
wish to, if such be the tendency of what he teaches — ” 

“ Juvenal was a satirist, you know,” interrupted Bulstrode 
a little hastily, for by this time he too had ascertained that 
Anneke was listening, and he betrayed some eagerness to 
get rid of so flagitious a sentiment ; “ and satirists speak of 
things as they are, rather than as they ought to be. I dare 


SAT ANSTOE. 


95 


say Rome deserved all she got, for the moralists give a very 
sad account of her condition. Of all the large capitals of 
which, we have any account, London is the only town of 
even tolerable manners.” 

What young Bulstrode would have ventured to say next, 
it is out of my power to guess; for a certain Miss Warren, 
who was of the company, and who particularly affected the 
youth, luckily called out at this critical instant — 

“ Your attention one moment, if you please, Mr. Bulstrode; 
is it true that the gentlemen of the army have been getting 
the new theatre in preparation, and that they intend to favour 
us with some representations 1 A secret something like this 
has just leaked out, from Mr. Harris, who even goes so far 
as to add that you can tell us all about it.” 

“ Mr. Harris must be put under an arrest for this, though 
I hear the colonel let the cat out of the bag, at the Lt. Go- 
vernor’s table, as early as last week.” 

“ I can assure you, Mr. Bulstrode,” Anneke observed 
^v’mly, “ that. I have heard rumours to this effect for quite 
a fortnight. You must not blame Mr. Harris solely, for 
your whole regiment has been hinting to the same purpose 
far and near.” 

“ Then the delinquent will escape, this time. I confess 
the charge ; we have hired the new theatre, and do intend 
to solicit the honour of the ladies coming to hear me murder 
Cato, and Scrub ; a pretty climax of characters, you will 
admit, Miss Mordaunt?” 

“ I know nothing of Scrub, though I have read Mr. Addi- 
son’s play, and think you have no need of being ashamed 
of the character of Cato. When is the theatre to open ?” 

“ We follow the sable gentry. As soon as St. Pinkster 
has received his proper share of afiention, we shall intro- 
duce Dom-Cato and Mr. Scrub to your acquaintance.” 

AH the young ladies, but Anneke and her friend Mary 
Wallace, laughed, two or three repeating the words 4 St. 
Pinkster,’ as if they contained something much cleverer 
than it was usual to hear. A general burst of exclamations, 
expressions of pleasure, and of questions and answers fol- 
lowed, in which two or three voices were heard at the same 
moment, during which time Anneke turned to me, who was 


96 


SATAN STOE. 


standing near her, at the spot occupied by Bulstrode a 
minute before, and seemed anxious to say something. 

“ Do you seriously think of the army, Mr. Littlepage ?” 
she asked, changing colour at the freedom of her own 
question. 

“ In a war like this, no one can say when he may be 
called on to go out,” I answered. “ But, only as a defender 
of the soil, if at all.” 

I thought Anneke Mordaunt seemed pleased with this 
answer. After a short pause, she resumed the dialogue. 

“ Of course you understand Latin, Mr. Littlepage, although 
you have not been at the universities ?” 

“ As it is taught in our own colleges, Miss Mordaunt.” 

“ And that is sufficient to tell me what Mr. Bulstrode’s 
quotation means — if it be proper for me to hear.” 

“ He would hardly presume to use even a Latin saying 
in your presence, that is unfit for your ear. The maxim 
which Mr. Bulstrode attributes to Juvenal, simply means 
‘ that honesty is praised and starves.’ ” 

I thought that something like displeasure settled on the 
fair, polished, brow of Miss Mordaunt, who, I could soon 
see, possessed much character and high principles for one 
of her tender years. She said nothing, however, though 
she exchanged a very meaning glance with her friend Mary 
Wallace. Her lips were moved, and I fancied I could trace 
the formation of the sounds “ honesty is praised and 
starves !” 

“ And you are to be Cato I hear, Mr. Bulstrode,” cried 
one of the young ladies, who thought more of a scarlet 
coat, I fancy, than was for her own good. “ How very 
charming ! Will you play the character in regimentals or 
in mohair — in a modern or in an ancient dress?” 

“ In my robe de chambre , a little altered for the occasion, 
unless St. Pinkster and his sports should suggest some 
more appropriate costume,” answered the young man 
lightly. 

“ Are you quite aware what feast Pinkster is ?” asked 
Anneke, a little gravely. 

Bulstrode actually changed colour, for it had never 
crossed his mind to inquire into the character of the holi- 
day ; and, to own the truth, the manner in which it is kept 


SATANSTOE. 97 

by the negroes of New York, never would enlighten him 
much on the subject. 

“ i hat is information for which I perceive I am now 
about to be indebted to Miss Mordaunt.” 

“Then you shall not be disappointed, Mr. Bulstrode ; 
Pinkster is neither more nor less than the Festival of Whit- 
sunday, or the Feast of Pentecost. I suppose we shall now 
hear no more of your saint.” 

Bulstrode took this little punishment, which was very 
sweetly but quite steadily uttered, with perfect good-humour, 
and with a manner so rebuked as to prove that Anneke 
possessed great control over him. He bowed in submission, 
and she smiled so kindly, that I wished the occasion for the 
little pantomime had not occurred. 

“ Our ancestors, Miss Mordaunt, never heard of any 
Pinkster, you will remember, and that must explain my 
ignorance,” he said meekly. 

“ But some of mine have long understood it, and observed 
the festival,” answered Anneke. 

“Ay, on the side of Holland — but when I presume to 
speak of our ancestors, I mean those which I can claim the 
honour of boasting as belonging to me in common with 
yourself.” 

“ Are you and Mr. Bulstrode, then, related ?” I asked, as 
it might be involuntarily and almost too abruptly. 

Anneke replied, however, in a way to show that she 
thought the question natural for the circumstances, and not 
in the least out of place. 

“ My grandfather’s mother, and Mr. Bulstrode’s grand- 
father, were brother and sister,” was the quiet answer. 
“ This makes us a sort of cousins, according to those Dutch 
notions which he so much despises, though I fancy it would 
not count for much at home.” 

Bulstrode protested to the contrary, stating that he knew 
his father valued his relationship to Mr. Mordaunt, by the 
earnest manner in which he had commanded him to culti- 
vate the acquaintance of the family the instant he reached 
New York. I saw by this, the footing on which the formi- 
dable Major was placed in the family, everybody seeming 
to be related to Anneke Mordaunt but myself. I took an 
occasion that very evening, to question the dear girl on the 
9 


S AT ANSTOE. 


98 

subject of her Dutch connections, giving her a clue to mine • 
but with all our industry, and some assistance from Herman 
Mordaunt, who took an interest in such a subject, as it 
might be ex officio, we could make out no affinity worth 
mentioning. 


CHAPTER VII. 

“ Sir Valentine, I care not for her, I.” 

“ I hold him but a fool, that will endanger 
His body for a girl that loves him not.” 

« I claim her not, and therefore she is thine.” 

Two Gentlemen of Verona. 

I saw Anne Mordaunt several times, either in the street 
or in her own house, between that evening and the day I 
was to dine with her father. The morning of the last 
named day Mr. Bulstrode favoured me with a call, and an- 
nounced that he was to be of the party in Crown Street, 
and that the whole company was to repair to the theatre, to 
see his own Cato and Scrub, in the evening. 

“ By giving yourself the trouble to call at the Crown and 
Bible, kept hard-by here, in Hanover Square or Queen Street, 
by honest Hugh Gaine, you will find a package of tickets 
for yourself, Mr. and Mrs. Legge, and your relative Mr. 
Dirck Follock, as I believe the gentleman is called. These 
Dutch have extraordinary patronymics, you must admit, 
Littlepage.” 

“ It may appear so to an Englishman, though our names 
are quite as odd to strangers. But Dirck Van Valken- 
burgh is not a kinsman of mine, though he is related to the 
Mordaunts, your relatives.” 

“Well, it’s all the same! I knew he was related to 
somebody that I know, and I fancied it was to yourself. I 
am sure I never see him but I wish he was in our grenadier 
company.” 

“ Dirck would do honour to any corps, but you know 


SATANSTOE. 


99 


how it is with the Dutch families, Mr. Bulstrode. They 
still retain much of their attachment to Holland, and do not 
as often take service in the army, or navy, as we of Eng- 
lish descent.” 

“ I should have thought a century might have cooled 
.hem off, a little, from their veneration of the meadows of 
Holland. It is the opinion at home, that New York is a 
particularly well affected colony.” 

“ So it is, as I hear from all sides. As respects the 
Dutch, among ourselves, I have heard my grandfather say, 
that the reign of King William had a powerful influence in 
reconciling them to the new government, but, since his day, 
that they are less loyal than formerly. The Van Valken- 
burghs, notwithstanding, pass for as good subjects as any 
that the house of Hanover possesses. On no account would 
I injure them in your opinion.” 

“ Good or bad, we shall hope to see your friend, who is 
a connection in some way, as you believe, of the Mor- 
daunts. You will get but. a faint idea of what one of the 
royal theatres is, Littlepage, by this representation of ours, 
though it may serve to kill time. But, I must go to re- 
hearsal ; we shall meet at three.” 

Here my gay and gallant major made his bow, and took 
his leave. I proceeded on to the sign of the Crown and the 
Bible, where I found a large collection of people, coming 
in quest of tickets. As the elite of the town would not of 
themselves form an audience sufficiently large to meet the 
towering ambition of the players, more than half the tickets 
were sold, the money being appropriated to the sick families 
of soldiers — those who were not entitled to receive aid from 
government. It was deemed a high compliment to receive 
tickets gratis, though all who did, made it a point to leave 
a donation to the fund, with Mr. Gaine. Receiving my 
package, I quitted the shop, and it being the hour for the 
morning promenade, I went up Wall Street, to the Mall, as 
Trinity Church Walk was even then called. Here, I ex- 
pected to meet Dirck, and hoped to see Anneke, for the 
place was much frequented by the young and gay, both in 
the mornings and in the evenings. The bands of different 
regiments were stationed in the churchyard, and the com- 
pany was often treated to much fine martial music, SomQ 


100 


S AT AN ST O E. 


few of the more scrupulous objected to this desecration of 
the churchyard, but the army had everything pretty much 
in its own way. As they were supposed to do nothing but 
what was approved of at home, the dissenters were little 
heeded, nor do I think the army would have greatly cared, 
had they been more numerous. 

I dare say there were fifty young ladies promenading the 
church-walk when I reached it, and nearly as many young 
men in attendance on them ; no small portion of the last 
being scarlet-coats, though the mohairs had their represent- 
atives there too. A few blue-jackets were among us also, 
there being two or three king’s cruisers in port. As no one 
presumed to promenade the Mall, who was not of a certain 
stamp of respectability, the company was all gaily dressed; 
and I will confess that I was much struck with the air of 
the place, the first lime I showed myself among the gay 
idlers. The impression made on me that morning was so 
vivid, that I will endeavour to describe the scene, as it now 
presents itself to my mind. 

In the first place, there was the noble street, quite eighty 
feet in width in its narrowest part, and gradually expanding 
as you looked towards the bay, until it opened into an area 
of more than twice that width, at the place called the Bowl- 
ing-Green.* Then came the Fort, crowning a sharp emi- 
nence, and overlooking everything in that quarter of the 
town. In the rear of the Fort, or in its front, taking a water 
view, lay the batteries that had been built on the rocks 
which form the south-western termination of the island. 
Over these rocks, which were black and picturesque, and 
over the batteries they supported, was obtained a view of 
the noble bay, dotted here and there with some speck of a 
sail, or possibly with some vessel anchored on its placid 
bosom. Of the two rows of elegant houses, most of them 
of brick, and with very few exceptions principally of two 


* Mr. Cornelius Littlepage betrays not a little of provincial admi. 
ration, as the . reader will see. I have not thought it necessary to 
prune these passages, their causes being too familiar to leave any 
danger of their insertion’s being misunderstood. Admiration of 
Broadway, certainly not more than a third-class street, as streets 
go in the old world, is so very common among us as to need no 
apology. — E ditor. 


SATANSTOE. 


101 


stories in height, it is scarcely necessary to speak, as there 
are few who have not heard of, and formed some notion of 
Broadway ; a street that all agree is one day to be the pride 
of the western world. 

In the other direction, I will admit that the view was not 
so remarkable, the houses being principally of wood, and 
of a somewhat ignoble appearance. Nevertheless the army 
was said to frequent those habitations quite as much as they 
did any other in the place. After reaching the Common, or 
present Park, where the great Boston road led off into the 
country, the view was just the reverse of that which was 
seen in the opposite quarter. Here, all was inland, and 
rural. It is true, the new Bridewell had been erected in 
that quarter, and there was also a new gaol, both facing the 
common ; and the king’s troops had barracks in their rear; 
but high, abrupt, conical hills, with low marshy land, or- 
chards and meadows, gave to all that portion of the island 
a peculiarly novel and somewhat picturesque character. 
Many of the hills in that quarter, and indeed all over the 
widest part of the island, are now surmounted by country- 
houses, as some were then, including Petersfield, the ancient 
abode of the Stuyvesants, or that farm which, by being 
called after the old Dutch governor’s retreat, has given the 
name of Bowery, or Bouerie, to the road that led to it ; as 
well as the Bowery-house, as it was called, the country 
abode of the then Lieutenant Governor, James de Lancey ; 
Mount Bayard, a place belonging to that respectable family ; 
Mount Pitt, another that was the property of Mrs. Jones, 
the wife of Mr. Justice Jones, a daughter of James de Lan- 
cey, and various other mounts, houses, hills, and places, 
that are familiar to the gentry and people of New York. 

But, the reader can imagine for himself the effect pro- 
duced by such a street as Broadway, reaching very nearly 
half a mile in length, terminating at one end, in an ele- 
vated, commanding Fort, with its back-ground of batteries, 
rocks and bay, and, at the other, with the common, on 
which troops were now constantly parading, the Bridewell 
an 1 gaol, and the novel scene I have just mentioned. Nor 
is Trinity itself to be forgotten. This edifice, one of the 
noblest, if not the most noble of its kind, in all the colonies, 
with its gothic architecture, statues in carved stone, and 
9 * 


102 


SAT ANSTOE. 


flanking walls, was a close accessory of the view, giving to 
the whole grandeur, and a moral.* 

As has been said, I found the Mall crowded with young 
persons of fashion and respectability. This Mall was near 
a hundred yards in length; and it follows that there must 
have been a goodly show of youth and beauty. The fine 
weather had commenced ; spring had fairly opened ; Pink- 
ster Blossoms (the wild honeysuckle) had been seen in 
abundance throughout, the week ; and everything and per- 
son appeared gay and happy. 

I could discover that my person in this crowd attracted 
attention as a stranger. I say as a stranger ; for I am un- 
willing to betray so much vanity as to ascribe the manner 
in which many eyes followed me, to any vain notion that I 
was known or admired. Still, I will not so far disparage 
the gifts of a bountiful Providence, as to Jeave the impres- 
sion that my face, person, or air was particularly disagree- 
able. This would not be the fact ; and I have now reached 
a time of life when something like the truth may be told, 
without the imputation of conceit. My mother often boasted 
to her intimates, “ that Corny was one of the best-made, 
handsomest, most active, and genteelest youths in the colo- 
ny.” This I know, for such things will leak out ; but 
mothers are known to have a remarkable weakness on the 
subject of their children. As I was the sole surviving off- 
spring of my dear mother, who was one of the best-hearted 
women that ever breathed, it is highly probable that the 
notions she entertained of her son partook largely of the 
love she bore me. It is true, my aunt Legge, on more than 
one occasion, has been heard to express a very similar 
opinion ; though nothing can be more natural than that 
sisters should think alike, on a family matter of this parti- 
cular nature, more especially as my aunt Legge never had 
a child of her own to love and praise. 

Let all this be as it may, well stared at was I, as I min- 
gled among the idlers on Trinity Church Walk, on the 

* The provincial admiration of Mr. Cornelius Littlepage was not 
quite as much in fault, as respects the church, as the superciliousness 
of our more modern tastes and opinions may lead us to suspect. The 
church that was burned in 1776, was a larger edifice than that just 
pulled down, and, in many respects, was its superior. — Editor. 


SATAN STOE. 


103 

occasion named. As for myself, my own eyes were bent 
anxiously on the face of every pretty, delicate young crea- 
ture that passed, in the hope of seeing Anneke. I both 
wished and dreaded to meet her ; for, to own the truth, my 
mind was dwelling on her beauty, her conversation, her 
sentiments, her grace, her gentleness, and withal her spirit, 
a good deal more than half the time. I had some qualms 
on the subject of Dirck, I will confess ; but Dirck was so 
young, that his feelings could not be much interested, after 
all ; and then Anneke was a second cousin, and that was 
clearly too near to marry. My grandfather had always put 
his foot down firmly against any connection between rela- 
tions that were nearer than third cousins ; and I now saw 
how proper were his reasons. If they were even farther 
removed, so much the better, he said ; and so much the 
better it was. 

If the reader should ask me why I dreaded to meet Anne 
Mordaunt, under such circumstances, I might be at a loss to 
give him a very intelligible answer. I feared even to see the 
sweet face I sought ; and oh ! how soft, serene, and angel- 
like it was, at that budding age of seventeen ! — but, though 
I almost feared to see it, when at last I saw her I had so 
anxiously sought, approaching me, arm and arm with Mary 
Wallace, having Bulstrode next herself, and Harris next her 
friend, my eyes were instantly averted, as if they had un- 
expectedly lighted on something disagreeable. I should have 
passed without even the compliment of a bow, had not my 
friends been more at their ease, and more accustomed to the 
free ways of town life than I happened to be myself. 

“ How’s this, Cornelius, Cceur de Lion!” exclaimed Bul- 
strode, stopping, thus causing the whole party to stop with 
him, or to appear to wish to avoid me ; “will you not recog- 
nise us, though it is not an hour since you and I parted? I 
hope you found the tickets ; and when you have answered 
‘ yes,’ I hope you will turn and do me the honour to bow 
to these ladies.” 

I apologized, I am afraid I blushed ; for I detected Amneke 
looking at me, as I thought, with some little concern, as if 
she pitied my awkward country embarrassment. As for 
Bulstrode, I did not understand him at that time ; it exceed- 
ing my observation to be certain whether he considered me 


104 


SATANSTOE. 


of sufficient importance or not, to feel any concern on my 
account, in his very obvious suit with Anneke. Nevertheless, 
as he treated me with cordiality and respect, while he dealt 
with me so frankly, there was not room to take offence. 
Of course, I turned and walked back with the party, after 
I had properly saluted the ladies and Mr. Harris. 

“ Ccrur de Lion is a better name for a soldier than for a 
civilian said Anneke, as we moved forward ; “ and, how- 
ever much Mr. Littlepage may deserve the title, I am not 
certain, Mr. Bulstrode, he would not prefer leaving it among 
you gentlemen who serve the king.” 

“ I am glad of this occasion, Mr. Littlepage, to enlist you 
on my side, in a warfare I am compelled to wage with Miss 
Anne Mordaunt,” said the Major gaily. “ It is on the sub- 
ject of the great merit of us poor fellows who have crossed 
the wide Atlantic in order to protect the colonies, New York 
among the number, and their people, Miss Mordaunt and 
Miss Wallace inclusively, from the grasp of their wicked 
enemies, the French. The former young lady has a way 
of reasoning on the matter to which I cannot assent, and I 
am willing to choose you as arbitrator between us.” 

“ Before Mr. Littlepage accept the office, it is proper he 
should know its duties and responsibilities,” said Anneke, 
smiling. “ In the first place, he will find Mr. Bulstrode, 
with loud professions of attachment to the colonies, much 
disposed to think them provinces that owe their very exist- 
ence to England ; while I maintain it is English 772 erc, and 
that it is not England, that have done so much in America. 
As for New York, Mr. Littlepage, and especially as for you 
and me, we can also say a word in favour of Holland. I 
am very proud of my Dutch connections and Dutch descent.” 

I was much gratified with the “ as for you and me 
though I believe I cared less for Holland than she did her-’ 
self. I made an answer much in the vein of the moment ; 
but the conversation soon changed to the subject of the 
military theatre that was about to open. 

“ I shall dread you as a critic, cousin Annie,” so Bulstrode 
often termed Anneke, as I soon discovered ; “I find you are 
not too well disposed to us of the cockade, and I think you 
have a particular spite to our regiment. I know that Billings 
and Harris, too, hold you in the greatest possible dread.” 


SATANSTOE. 


105 


“ They then feel apprehensive of a very ignorant critic ; 
for I never was present at a theatrical entertainment in my 
life,” Anneke answered with perfect simplicity. “ So far 
as 1 can learn, there never has been but one season of any 
regular company, in this colony ; and that was when I was 
a very little and a very young girl — as I am now neither 
very large, nor very old as a young woman.” 

“ You see, Littlepage, with how much address my cousin 
avoids adding, and 1 very uninteresting, and very ugly, and 
very disagreeable, and very much unsought,’ and fifty other 
things she might add with such perfect truth and modesty ! 
But is it true, that the theatre was open only one season, 
here ?” 

“ So my father tells me, though I know very little of the 
facts themselves. To-night will be my first appearance in 
front of any stage, Mr. Bulstrode, as I understand it will be 
your first appearance on it.” 

“ In one sense the last will be true, though not altogether 
in another. As a school-boy, I have often played, school- 
boy fashion ; but this is quite a new thing with us, to be 
amateur players.” 

“ It may seem ungrateful, when you are making so many 
efforts, principally to amuse us young ladies, I feel convinced, 
to inquire if it be quite as wise as it is novel. I must ask 
this, as a cousin, you know, Henry Bulstrode, to escape 
entirely from the imputation of impertinence.” 

“ Really, Anneke Mordaunt, I am not absolutely certain 
that it is. Our manners are beginning to change in this 
respect, however, and I can assure you that various noble- 
men have permitted sports of this sort at their seats. The 
custom is French, as you probably know, and whatever 
is French has much vogue with us during times of peace. 
Sir Harry does not altogether approve of it, and as for my 
lady mother, she has actually dropped more than one dis- 
couraging hint on the subject in her letters.” 

“The certain proof that you are a most dutiful son. 
Perhaps when Sir Harry and Lady Bulstrode learn your 
great success, however, they will overlook the field on which 
your laurels have been won. But our hour has come, 
Mary ; we have barely time to thank these gentlemen for 
their politeness, and to return in season to dress. I am to 


106 


SAT ANSTOE. 


enact a part myself, at dinner, as I hope you will all re- 
member.” 

Saying this, Anneke made her curtsies in a way to pre- 
elude any offer of seeing her home, and went her way with 
her silent but sensible-looking and pretty friend. Bulstrode 
took my arm with an air of easy superiority, and led the 
way towards his own lodgings, which happened to be in 
Duke Street. Harris joined another party, making it a 
point to be always late at dinner. 

“ That is not only one of the handsomest, but she is one 
of the most charming girls in the colonies, Littlepage!” my 
companion exclaimed, as soon as we had departed, speaking 
at the same time with an earnestness and feeling I was far 
from expecting. “ Were she in England, she would make 
one of the first women in it, by the aid of a little fashion 
and training; and very little would do too, for there is a 
charm in her naivete that is worth the art of fifty women 
of fashion.” 

“ Fashion is- a thing that any one may want who does 
not happen to be in vogue,” I answered, notwithstanding 
the great degree of surprise I felt. “As for training, I can 
see nothing but perfection in Miss Mordaunt as she is, and 
should deprecate the lessons that produced any change.” 

1 believe it was now JBulstrode’s turn to feel surprise, for 
I was conscious of his casting a keen look into my face, 
though I did not like to return it. My companion was 
silent for a minute ; then, without again adverting to Anneke, 
he began to converse very sensibly on the subject of thea- 
tres and plays. I was both amused and instructed, for Mr. 
Bulstrode was an educated and a clever man ; and a strange 
feeling came over the spirit of my dream, even then, as I. 
listened to his conversation. This man, I thought, admires 
Anne Mordaunt, and he will probably carry her with him 
to England, and obtain for her that fashion and training of 
which he has just spoken. Witn his advantages of birth, 
air, fortune, education, and military rank, he can scarcely 
fail in his suit, should he seriously attempt one ; and it will 
be no more than prudent to command my own feelings, lest 
I become the hopeless victim of a serious passion. Young 
as I was, all this I saw, and thus I reasoned ; and when I 
parted from my companion I fancied myself a much wise! 


SATAN STOE . 


107 


man than when we had met. We separated in Duko 
Street, with a promise on my part to call at the Major’s 
lodgings half an hour later, after dressing, and walk with 
nim to Herman Mordaunt’s door. 

“ It is fortunate that it is the fashion of New York to 
walk to a dinner party,” said Bulstrode, as he again took 
my arm on our w r ay to Crown Street ; “ for these narrow 
streets must be excessively inconvenient for chariots, though 
I occasionally see one of them. As for sedan chairs, I 
detest them as things unfit for a man to ride in.” 

“ Many of our leading families keep carriages, and they 
seem to get along well enough,” I answered. “ Neverthe- 
less, it is quite in fashion even for ladies to walk. I under- 
stand that many, perhaps most of your auditors, will walk 
to the play-house door this evening.” 

“ They tell me as much,” said Bulstrode, curling his lip, 
a little, in a way I did not exactly like. “ Notwithstanding, 
there will be many charming creatures among them, and they 
shall be welcome. Well, Littlepage, I do not despair of 
having you among us ; for, to be candid, without wishing 

to boast, I think you will find the th as liberal a set of 

young men as there is in the service. There is a wish to 
have the mohairs among us instead of shutting ourselves up 
altogether in scarlet. Then your father and grandfather 
have both served, and that will be a famous introduction.” 

I protested my unfitness for such an amusement, never 
having seen such an exhibition in my life ; but to this my 
companion would not listen ; and we picked our way, as well 
as we could, through William Street, up Wall, and then by 
Nassau into Crown ; Herman Mordaunt owning a new 
house, that stood not far from Broadway, in the latter street. 
This was rather in a remote part of the town ; but the situ- 
ation had the advantage of good air ; and, as a place 
extends, it is necessary some persons should live on its 
skirts. 

“ I wish my good cousin did not live quite so much in the 
suburbs,” said Bulstrode, as he knocked in a very patrician 
manner ; “ it is not altogether convenient to go quite so 
much out of one’s ordinary haunts, in order to pay visits. 
I wonder Mr. Mordaunt came so far out of the world, to 
build.” 


108 


SATAN STOE. 


“ Yet the distances of London must be much greater 
though there you have coaches.” 

“ True ; but not a word more on this subject : I would 
not have Anneke fancy I ever find it far to visit /ier.” 

We were the last but one ; the tardy Mr. Harris making 
it a point always to be the last. We found Anneke Mor- 
daunt supported by two or three ladies of her connection, 
and a party of quite a dozen assembled. As most of those 
present saw each other every day, and frequently two or 
three times a day, the salutations and compliments were 
soon over, and Herman Mordaunt began to look about him, 
to see who was wanting. 

,, I believe everybody is here but Mr. Harris,” the father 
observed to his daughter, interrupting some of Mr Bulstrode’s 
conversation, to let this fact be known. “ Shall we wait for 
him, my dear; he is usually so uncertain and late?” 

“ Yet a very important man,” put in Bulstrode, “as being 
entitled to lead the lady of the house to the table, in virtue 
of his birthright. So much for being the fourth son of an 
Irish baron ! Do you know Harris’s father has just been 
ennobled ?” 

This was news to the company; and it evidently much 
increased the doubts of the propriety of sitting down without 
the young man in question. 

“ Failing of this son of a new Irish baron, I suppose you 
fancy I shall be obliged to give my hand to the eldest son 
of an English baronet,” said Anneke, smiling, so as to take 
off the edge of a little irony that I fancy just glimmered 
in her manner. 

“ I wish to Heaven you would , Anne Mordaunt,” whis- 
pered Bulstrode, loud enough for me to hear him, “so that 
the heart were its companion !” 

i thought this both bold and decided ; and I looked anx- 
iously at Anneke, to note the effect ; but she evidently receiv- 
ed it as trifling, certainly betraying no emotion at a speech 
I thought so pointed. I wished she had manifested a little 
resentment. Then she was so very young to be thus im- 
portuned ! 

“ Dinner had better be served, sir,” she calmly observed 
to her father. “ Mr. Harris is apt to think himself ill-treated 
if he do not find everybody at table. It would be a sign his 


SATANSTOE. 109 

watch was wrong, and that he had come half an hour too 
soon.” 

Herman Mordaunt nodded assent, and left his daughter’s 
side to give the necessary order. 

“I fancy Harris will regret this,” said Bulstrode. “I 
wish I dared repeat what he had the temerity to say to me 
on this very subject, no later than yesterday.” 

“ Of the propriety of so doing, Mr. Bulstrode must judge 
for himself; though repetitions of this nature are usually 
best avoided.” 

“ No, the fellow deserves it ; so I will just tell you and 
Mr. Littlepage in confidence. You must know, as his senior 
in years, and his senior officer in the bargain, I was hinting 
to Harris the inexpediency of always being so late at dinner; 
and here is my gentleman’s answer : — ‘ You know,’ said he, 
‘ that excepting my lord Loudon, the Commander-in-chief, 
the Governor, and a few public officers, I shall now take 
precedence of almost every man here; and I find, if I go 
early to dinner, I shall have to hand in all the elderly ladies, 
and to take my place at their sides ; whereas, if I go a little 
late, I can steal in alongside of their daughters.’ Now, on 
the present occasion, he will be altogether a loser, the lady 
of the house not yet being quite fifty.” 

“ I had not given Mr. Harris credit for so much ingenuity,” 
said Anneke, quietly. “ But here he is to claim his rights.” 

“Ay, the fellow has remembered your age, and quite 
likely your attractions /” 

Dinner was announced at that instant, and all eyes were 
turned on Harris, in expectation that he would advance to 
lead Anneke down stairs. The young man, even more 
youthful than myself, had a good deal of mauvaise honte ; 
for, though the son of an Irish peer, of two months’ creation, 
the family was not strictly Irish, and he had very little am- 
bition to figure in this manner. From what I saw of him 
subsequently, I do believe that nothing but a sense of duty 
to his order made him respect these privileges of rank at all, 
and that he would really just as soon go to a dinner-table 
last, as first. In the present case, however, he was soon 
relieved by Herman Mordaunt ; who had been educated at 
home, and understood the usages of the world very well. 

“ Gentlemen,” he said, “ I must ask you to waive the 

10 


SATAN STOE . 


110 

privileges of rank in favour of Mr. Cornelius Littlepage, to* 
day. This good company has met to do honour especially 
to his courage and devotion to his fellow-creatures, and he 
will do me the favour to hand Miss Mordaunt down stairs.” 

Herman Mordaunt then pointed out to the Hon. Mr. 
Harris, the next lady of importance, and to Mr. Bulstrode 
a third ; after which all the rest took care of themselves. 
As for myself, I felt my face in a glow, at this unexpected 
order, and scarcely dared to look at Anneke as we led the 
way to the dining-room door. So much abashed was I, 
that I scarce touched the tips of her slender little fingers, 
and a tremour was in the limb that performed this office, the 
whole time it was thus employed. Of course, my seat was 
next to that of the young and lovely mistress of the house, 
at this banquet. 

What shall I say of the dinner? It was the very first 
entertainment of the sort at which I had ever been present ; 
though I had acquired some of the notions of town habits, 
on such occasions, at my aunt Legge’s table. To my sur- 
prise, there was soup ; a dish that 1 never saw at Satanstoe, 
except in the most familiar way ; while here it was taken by 
every one, seemingly as a matter of course. Everything 
was elegant, and admirably cooked. Abundance, however, 
was the great feature of the feast ; as I have heard it said, 
is apt to be the case with most New York entertainments. 
Nevertheless, I have always understood that, in the way of 
eating and drinking, the American colonies have little reason 
to be ashamed. 

c ‘ Could I have foreseen this dinner, Miss Mordaunt,” 
I said, when everybody was employed, and I thought there 
was an opening to say something to my beautiful neighbour; 
“ it would have made my father very happy to have sent a 
sheepshead to town, for the occasion.” 

Anneke thanked me, and then we began to converse about 
the game. Westchester was, and is still, famous for par- 
tridges, snipe, quails, ducks, and meadow-larks; and I 
understood expatiating on such a subject, as well as the best 
of them. All the Littlepages were shots ; and I have known 
my father bag ten brace of woodcock, among the wet thickets 
of Satanstoe, of a morning ; and this with merely a second 
class dog, and only one. Both Bulstrode and Harris listened 


SATAN STOE. 




Ill 

to what 1 said on this subject with great attention, and it 
would soon have been the engrossing discourse, had not 
Anneke pleasantly said — 

“All very well, gentlemen ; but you will remember that 
neither Miss Wallace, nor I, shoot.” 

“ Except with the arrows of Cupid,” answered Bulstrode, 
gaily ; “ with these you do so much execution between you,” 
emphasizing the words, so as to make me look foolish, for I 
sat between them, “ that you ought to be condemned to hear 
nothing but fowling conversation for the next year.” 

This produced a laugh, a little at my expense, I believe ; 
though I could see that Anneke blushed, while Mary Wallace 
smiled indifferently ; but as the healths now began, there 
was a truce to trifling. And a serious thing it is, to drink 
to everybody by name, at a large table ; serious I mean to 
a new beginner. Yet, Herman Mordaunt went through it 
with a grace and dignity, that I think would have been re- 
marked at a royal banquet. The ladies acquitted themselves 
admirably, omitting no one ; and even Harris felt the ne- 
cessity of being particular with this indispensable part of 
good-breeding. So well done was this part of the ceremony, 
that I declare, I believe everybody had drunk to everybody, 
within five minutes after Herman Mordaunt commenced ; and 
it was very apparent that there was more ease and true 
gaiety after all had got through, than there had previously 
been. 

But the happy period of every dinner-party, is after the 
cloth is removed. With the dark polished mahogany for a 
background, the sparkling decanters making their rounds, the 
fruit and cake baskets, the very scene seems to inspire 
one with a wish for gaiety. Herman Mordaunt called for 
toasts, as soon as the cloth disappeared, with a view I be- 
lieve of putting everybody at ease, and to render the con 
versation more general. He was desired to set the example, 
and immediately gave “ Miss Markham,” who, as I was 
told, was a single lady of forty, with whom he had carried 
on a little flirtation. Anneke’s turn came next, and she 
chose to give a sentiment, notwithstanding all Bulstrode’s 
remonstrances, who insisted on a gentleman. He did not 
succeed, however ; Anneke very steadily gave “ The Thes- 
pian corps of the th ; may it prove as successful in the 


112 


S AT AN STOE. 


arts of peace, as in its military character it has often proved 
itself to be in the art of war.” Much applause followed 
this toast, and Harris was persuaded by Bulstrode to stand 
up, and say a few words, for the credit of the regiment. 
Such a speech ! — It reminded me of the horse that was ad- 
vertised as a show, in London, about this time, and which 
was said 4 to have its tail where its head ought to be.’ But, 
Bulstrode clapped his hands, and cried 4 hear,’ at every other 
word, protesting that the regiment was honoured as much 
in the thanks, as in the sentiment. Harris did not seem 
displeased with his own effort, and, presuming on his rank, 
he drank, without being called on, 44 to the fair of New 
York ; eminent alike for beauty and wit, may they only 
become as merciful as they are victorious.” 

44 Bravo !” again cried Bulstrode , — 44 Harris is fairly in- 
spired, and is growing better and better. Had he said im- 
minent, instead of eminent, it would be more accurate, as 
their frowns are as threatening, as their smiles are bewitch- 

• _ 55 

ing. 

44 Is that to pass for your sentiment, Mr. Bulstrode, and 
are we to drink it?” demanded Herman Mordaunt. 

44 By no means, sir ; I have the honour to give Lady 
Dolly Merton.” 

Who Lady Dolly was, nobody knew, I believe, though 
we of the colonies always drank a titled person, who was 
known to be at home, with a great deal of respectful atten- 
tion, not to say veneration. Other toasts followed, and 
then the ladies were asked to sing. Anneke complied, 
with very little urging, as became her position, and never 
did I hear sweeter strains than those she poured forth ! The 
air was simple, but melody itself, and the sentiment had 
iust enough of the engrossing feeling of woman in it, to 
render it interesting, without in the slightest degree impair- 
ing its fitness for the virgin lips from which it issued. Bul- 
strode, I could see, was almost entranced ; and I heard him 
murmur 44 an angel, by Heavens!” fie sang, himself, a 
love song, full of delicacy and feeling, and in a way to show 
that he had paid much attention to the art of music. Harris 
sang, too, as did Mary Wallace; the former, much as he 
spoke ; the last plaintively, and decidedly well. Even Her- 
man Mordaunt gave us a strain, and my turn followed. 


S AT ANSTOE. 


113 


Singing was somewhat of a forte with me, and I have rea- 
son to think I made out quite as well as the best of them. 
I know that Anneke seemed pleased, and I saw tears in her 
eyes, as I concluded a song that was intended to produce 
just such an effect. 

At length the youthful mistress of the house arose, re- 
minding her father that he had at table the principal per- 
former of the evening, by way of a caution, when three or 
four of us handed the ladies to the drawing-room door. In- 
stead of returning to the table, I entered the room, and Bul- 
strode did the same, under the plea of its being necessary 
for him to drink no more, on account of the work before 
him. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

“ Odd’s bodikins, man, much better: use 
Every man after his desert, and who shall ’scape 
Whipping ? use them after your own honour 
And dignity : the less they deserve, the more 
Merit is in your bounty.” 

Hamlet. 

“ Harris will be hors de combat ,” Bulstrode soon ob- 
served, “ unless I can manage to get him from the table. — You 
know he is to play Marcia this evening ; and, though a little 
wine will give him fire and spirit for the part, too much will 
impair its feminine beauties. Addison never intended that 
* the virtuous Marcia,’ in towering above her sex, was to be 
picked out of a kennel, or from under a table. Harris is a 
true Irish peer, when claret is concerned.” 

All the ladies held up their hands, and protested against 
Mr. Harris’ being permitted to act a travestie on their sex. 
As yet, no one had known how the characters were to be 
cast, beyond the fact that Bulstrode himself was to play 
Cato, for great care had been taken to keep the bills of the 
night from being seen, in order that the audience might 
have the satisfaction of finding out, who was who, for them- 
10 * 


1 14 


S ATANSTOE. 


selves. At the close of each piece a bill was to be sent 
round, among the favoured few, telling the truth. As An- 
neke declared that her father never locked in his guests, 
and had faithfully promised to bring up everybody for 
coffee, in the course of half an hour, it was determined to 
let things take their own way. 

Sure enough, at the end of the time mentioned, Herman 
Mordaunt appeared, with all the men, from the table. Harris 
was not tipsy, as I found was very apt to be the case with 
him after dinner, but neither was he sober. According to 
Bulstrode’s notion, he may have had just fire enough to play 
the ‘ virtuous Marcia.’ In a few minutes he hurrried the 
ensign off, declaring that, like Hamlet’s ghost, their hour 
had come. At seven, the whole party left the house in a 
body to walk to the theatre. Herman Mordaunt did not 
keep a proper town equipage, and, if he had, it would not 
have contained a fourth of our company. In this, however, 
we were not singular, as nine in ten of the audience that 
night, I mean nine in ten of the gentle sex, went to the 
theatre on foot. 

Instead of going directly down Crown Street, into Maiden 
Lane, which would have been the nearest way to the theatre, 
we went out into Broadway, and round by Wall Street, the 
walking being better, and the gutters farther from the ladies; 
the centre of the street being at no great distance from the 
houses, in the narrower passages of the town. We found 
a great many well-dressed people moving in the same direc- 
tion with ourselves. Herman Mordaunt remarked that he 
had never before seen so many hoops, cardinals, cocked 
hats and swords in the streets, at once, as he saw that even- 
ing. All the carriages in town rolled past us as we went 
down Wall Street, and by the time we reached William 
Street, the pavements resembled a procession, more than 
anything else. As every one was in full dress, the effect 
was pleasing, and the evening being fine, most of the gen- 
tlemen carried their hats in their hands, in order not to 
disturb their curls, thus giving to the whole the air of a sort 
of vast drawing-room. I never saw a more lovely creature 
than Anneke Mordaunt appeared, as she led our party, on 
this occasion. The powder had got a little out of her fine 
auburn hair, and on the part of the head that was not con* 


SAT ANSTOE. 


115 


cealed by a cap, that shaded half her beautiful face, it seemed 
as if the rich covering bestowed by nature was about to 
break out of all restraint, and shade her bust with its exu- 
berance. Her negligee was a rich satin, flounced in front, 
while the lace that dropped from her elbows seemed as if 
woven by fairies, expressly for a fairy to wear. She had 
paste buckles in her shoes, and I thought I had never beheld 
such a foot, as was occasionally seen peeping from beneath 
her dress, while she walked daintily, yet with the grace of 
a queen, at my side. I do not thus describe Anneke with a 
view of inducing the reader to fancy her stately and repul- 
sive ; on the contrary, winning ease and natural grace were 
just as striking in her manner, as were beauty, and senti- 
ment, and feeling in her countenance. More than once, as 
we walked side by side, did I become painfully conscious 
how unworthy I was to fill the place I occupied. I believe 
this humility is one of the surest signs of sincere love. 

At length we reached the theatre, and were permitted to 
enter. All the front seats were occupied by blacks, princi- 
pally in New York liveries ; that is to say, with cuffs, 
collars and pocket-flaps of a cloth different from the coat, 
though a few were in lace. These last belonged to the top- 
ping families, several of which gave colours and ornaments 
almost as rich as those that I understand are constantly 
given at home. I well remember that two entire boxes 
were retained by servants, in shoulder-knots, and much 
richer dresses than common, one of whom belonged to the 
Lt. Governor, and the other to my Lord Loudon, who was 
then Commander-In-Chief. As the company entered, these 
domestics disappeared, as is usual, and we all took our seats 
on the benches thus retained for us. Bulstrode’s care was 
apparent in the manner in which he had provided for 
Anneke, and her party, which, I will take it on myself to 
say, was one of the most striking, for youth and good looks, 
that entered the house that evening. 

Great was the curiosity, and deep the feeling, that pre- 
vailed, among the younger portion of the audience in par- 
ticular, as party after party was seated, that important 
evening. The house was ornamented as a theatre, and I 
thought it vast in extent; though Herman Mordaunt assured 
me it was no great things, in that point of view, as com- 


SATANSTOE. 


116 

pared with most of the playhouses at home. But the orna- 
ments, and the lights, and the curtain, the pit, the boxes, 
the gallery, were all so many objects of intense interest. 
Few of us said anything ; but our eyes wandered over all 
with a species of delight, that I am certain can be felt in a 
theatre only once. Anneke’s sweet face was a picture ot 
youthful expectation ; an expectation, however, in which 
intelligence and discretion had their full share. The orches- 
tra was said to have an undue portion of wind instruments 
in it; though I perceived ladies all over the house, includ- 
ing those in our own box, returning the bows ol many of 
the musicians, who, I was told, were amateurs from the 
army and the drawing-rooms of the town. 

At length the Commander-In-Chief and the Lt. Governor 
entered together, occupying the same box, though two had 
been provided, their attendants having recourse to the 
second. The commotion produced by these arrivals had 
hardly subsided, when the curtain arose, and a new world 
was presented to our view ! Of the playing, I shall not 
venture to say much ; though to me it seemed perfection 
Bulstrode gained great applause that night ; and I under- 
stand that divers gentlemen, who had either been educated 
at home, or who had passed much time there, declared that 
his Cato would have done credit to either of the royal 
theatres. His dress appeared to me to be everything it 
should be ; though I cannot describe it. I remember that 
Syphax wore the uniform of a colonel of dragoons, and Juba, 
that of a general officer; and that there was a good deal of 
criticism expended, and some offence taken, because the 
gentlemen who played these parts came out in wool, and 
with their faces blacked. It was said, in answer to these 
feelings, that the characters were Africans; and that any 
one might see, by casting his eyes at the gallery, that Afri- 
cans are usually black, and that they have woolly hair ; a 
sort of proof that, I imagine, only aggravated the offence.* 
Apart from this little mistake, everything went off well, even 

* In England, Othello is usually played as a black, while in Ame- 
rica he is played as a nondescript; or of no colour that is ordinarily 
seen. It is not clear that England is nearer right than America, 
however ; the Moor not being a negro, any more than lie is of tho 
colour of a dried herring. — Editor. 


8ATANSTOE 


117 


to Harris’s Marcia. It is true, that some evil-inclined per- 
sons whispered that the “virtuous Marcia” was a little how- 
came-you-so ; but Bulstrode afterwards assured me that his 
condition helped him along amazingly, and that it added a 
liquid lustre to his eyes, that might otherwise have been 
wanting. The high-heeled shoes appeared to trouble him ; 
but some persons fancied it gave him a pretty tottering in 
his walk, that added very much to the deception. On the 
whole, the piece went off surprisingly, as I could see by 
Lord Loudon and the Lt. Governor, both of whom seemed 
infinitely diverted. Herman Mordaunt smiled once or twice, 
when he ought to have looked grave; but this I ascribed to 
a want of practice, of late years, in scenic representations. 
He certainly was a man of judgment, and must have known 
the proper moments to exhibit particular emotions. 

During the interval between the play and the farce, the 
actors came among us, to receive the homage they merited, 
and loud were the plaudits that were bestowed on them. 
Anneke’s bright eyes sparkled with pleasure as she admitted, 
without reserve, to Bulstrode the pleasure she had received, 
and confessed she had formed no idea, hitherto, of the 
beauty and power of a theatrical representation, aided as 
was this, by the auxiliaries of lights, dress and scenery. 
It is true, the women had been a little absurd, and the “ vir- 
tuous Marcia” particularly so; but the fine sentiments of 
Addison, which, though as Herman Mordaunt observed, they 
had all the accuracy and all the stiffness of a pedantic age, 
were sufficiently beautiful and just, to cover the delinquen- 
cies of the Hon. Mr. Harris. She hoped the after-piece 
would be of the same general character, that they might all 
enjoy it as much as they had the play itself. 

The other young ladies were equally decided in their 
praise, though it struck me that Annek e felt the most, on 
the occasion. That the Major had obtained a great advan- 
tage by his efforts, I could not but see; and the folly of my 
having any pretensions with one who was courted by such a 
rival, began to impress itself on my imagination with a force 
I found painful. But the bell soon summoned away the 
gallant actors, in order to dress for the farce. 

The long interval that occurred between the two pieces, 
gave ample opportunity for visiting one’s acquaintances, and 


118 


S AT AN STOE . 


to compare opinions. I went to my aunt’s box, and found 
her well satisfied, though less animated than the younger 
ladies, in the expression of her pleasure. My uncle was 
altogether himself; good-natured, but not disposed to award 
any indiscreet amount of praise. 

“ Pretty well for boys, Corny,” he said, “ though the 
youngster who acted Marcia had better been at school. I 
do not know his name, but he completely took all the vir- 
tue out of Marcia. He must have studied her character 
from some of the ladies who follow the camp.” 

“ My dear uncle, how differently you think from all in 
our box ! That gentleman is the Hon. Mr. Harris, who is 

only eighteen, and has a pair of colours in the th, and is 

a son of Lord Ballybannon, or Bally-something else, and is 
said to have the softest voice in the army !” 

“ Ay, and the softest head, too, I ’ll answer for it. I tell 
you, Corny, the Hon. Mr. Bally billy , who is only eighteen, 

and has a pair of colours in the th, and the softest voice 

in the army, had better been at school, instead of under- 
mining the virtue of the ‘ virtuous Marcia,’ as he has so 
obviously done. Bulstrode did well enough; capitally well, 
for an amateur, and must be a first-rate fellow. By the 
way, Jane” — that was my aunt’s name — “ they tell me, he 
is likely to marry that exceedingly pretty daughter of Her- 
man Mordaunt, and make her Lady Bulstrode, one of these 
days.” 

“Why not, Mr. Legge? — Anne Mordaunt is as sweet a 
girl as there is in the colony, and is very respectably con- 
nected. They even say the Mordaunts are of a high family 
at home. Mary Wallace told me that Herman Mordaunt 
and Sir Henry Bulstrode are themselves related ; and you 
know, my dear, how intimate the Mordaunts and the Wal- 
laces are?” 

“ Not I ; — I know nothing of their intimacies, though I 
dare say it may be all true. Mordaunt’s father was an 
English gentleman of some family, I have always heard, 
though he was as poor as a church-mouse, when he mar- 
ried one of our Dutch heiresses; and as for Herman Mor- 
daunt himself, he proved he had not lost the instinct by 
marrying another, though she did not happen to be Dutch. 


S AT AN S TOE. 119 

Here comes Anneke to inherit it all, and I ’ll answer for it 
that care is had that she shall marry an heir.” 

“Well, Mr. Bulslrode is an heir, and the eldest son of a 
baronet. I am always pleased when one of our girls makes 
a good connection at home, for it does the colony credit. 
It is an excellent thing, Corny, to have our interest well 
sustained at home — especially before the Privy Council, they 
tell me.” 

“ Well, I am not,” answered my uncle. “ I think it more 
to the credit of the colony for its young women to take up 
with its young men, and its young men with its young 
women. I wish Anne Mordaunt had been substituted for 
the Hon. Ballyshannon to-night. She would have made a 
thousand times better 1 virtuous Marcia.” 

“ You surely would not have had a young lady of re- 
spectability appear in public, in this way, Mr. Legge.” 

My uncle said something to this, for he seldom let “Jane” 
get the better of it for want of an answer ; but as I left 
the box, I did not hear his reply. It seemed then to be 
settled, in the minds of most persons, that Bulstrode was to 
marry Anneke! I cannot describe the new shock this 
opinion gave me ; but it seemed to make me more fully 
sensible of the depth of the impression that had been made 
on myself, in the intercourse of a single week. The effect 
was such that I did not return to the party I had left, but 
sought a seat in a distant part of the theatre, though one in 
which I could distinctly see those I had abandoned. 

The Beaux Stratagem soon commenced, and Bulstrode 
was again seen in the character of Scrub. Those who 
were most familiar with the stage, pronounced his playing 
to be excellent — far better in the footman than in the Roman 
Senator. The play itself struck me as being as broad and 
coarse as could be tolerated ; but as it had a reputation at 
home, where it had a great name, our matrons did net dare 
to object to it. I was glad to see the smiles soon disappear 
from Anneke’s face, however, and to discover that she found 
no pleasure in scenes so unsuited to her sex and years. 
The short, quick glances that were exchanged between An- 
neke and Mary Wallace, did not escape me, and the manner 
in which they both rose, as soon as the curtain dropped, 
told quite plainly the haste they were in to quit the theatre. 


120 


SATANSTOE. 


[ reached their box-door in time to assist them through the 
crowd. 

Not a word was said by any of us, until we reached tho 
street, where two or three of Miss Mordaunt’s female friends 
became loud in the expression of their satisfaction. Neither 
Anneke nor Mary Wallace said anything, and so well did 
I understand the nature of their feelings, that I made no 
allusion whatever to the farce. As for the others, they did 
but chime in with what appeared to be the common opinion, 
and were to be pitied rather than condemned. It was per- 
haps the more excusable in them to imagine such a play 
right, inasmuch as they must have known it was much ex 
tolled at home, a fact that gave any custom a certain privi- 
lege in the colonies. A mother country has much of the 
same responsibility as a natural mother, herself, since its 
opinions and example are apt to be quoted in the one case 
by the dependant, in justification of its own opinions and 
conduct, as it is by the natural offspring in the other. 

I fancy, notwithstanding, this sort of responsibility gives 
the ministers or people of England very little trouble, since 
I never could discover any sensitiveness to their duties on 
this score. We all went in at Herman Mordaunt’s, after 
walking to the house as we had walked from it, and were 
made to take a light supper, including some delicious choco- 
late. Just as we sat down to table, Bulstrode joined us, to 
receive the praises he had earned, and to enjoy his triumph. 
He got a seat directly opposite to mine, on Anneke’s left 
hand, and soon began to converse. 

“ In the first place,” he cried, “ you must all admit that 
Tom Harris did wonders to-night as Miss Marcia Cato. I 
had my own trouble with the rogue, for there is no prece- 
dent for a tipsy Marcia ; but we managed to keep him 
straight, and that was the nicest part of my management, 
let me assure you.” 

“Yes,” observed Herman Mordaunt, drily; “I should 
think keeping Tom Harris straight, after dinner, an exploit 
of no little difficulty, but a task that would demand a very 
judicious management, indeed.” 

“ You were pleased to express your satisfaction with the 
performance of Cato. Miss Mordaunt,” said Bulstrode, in a 


SATANSTOE. 121 

very deferential and solicitous manner ; “ but I question if 
the entertainment gave you as much pleasure?” 

“ It certainly did not. Had the representation ended with 
the first piece, I am afraid I should too much regret that we 
are without a regular stage ; but the farce will take off much 
of the keenness of such regrets.” 

“ I fear I understand you, cousin Anne, and greatly 
regret that we did not make another choice,” returned Bul- 
strode, with a humility that was not usual in his manner, 
even when addressing Anneke Mordaunt ; “ but I can assure 
you the play has great vogue at home ; and the character of 
Scrub, in particular, has usually been a prodigious favourite. 
I see by your look, however, that enough has been said ; 
but after having done so much to amuse this good company, 
to-night, I shall feel authorised to call on every lady present, 
at least for a song, as soon as the proper moment arrives. 
Perhaps I have a right to add, a sentiment, and a toast.” 

And songs, and toasts, and sentiments, we had, as usual, 
the moment we had done eating. It was, and indeed is, 
rather more usual to indulge in this innocent gaiety after 
supper, than after dinner, with us ; and that night everybody 
entered into the feeling of the moment with spirit. Herman 
Mordaunt gave “ Miss Markham,” as he had done at dinner, 
and this with an air so determined, as to prove no one else 
would ever be got out of him. 

“ There is a compact between Miss Markham and myself, 
to toast each other for the remainder of our lives,” cried the 
master of the house, laughing ; “ and we are each too honest 
ever to violate it.” 

“ But Miss Mordaunt is under no such engagement,” put 
in a certain Mr. Benson, who had manifested much interest 
in the beautiful young mistress of the house throughout the 
day ; “ and I trust we shall not be put off by any such ex- 
cuse from her.” 

“ It is not in rule to ask two of the same race for toasts 
in succession, answered Herman Mordaunt. “ There is Mr. 
Bulstrode dying to give us another English belle.” 

“ With all my heart,” said Bulstrode, gaily. “ This time 
it shall be Lady Betty Boddington.” 

“Married or single, Bulstrode?” inquired Billings, as I 
thought with some little point. 


122 


SATANSTOE. 


“ No matter which, so long as she be a beauty and a 
toast. I believe it is now my privilege to call on a lady , 
and I beg a gentleman from Miss Wallace.” 

There had been an expression of pained surprise, at the 
trifling between Billings and Bulstrode, in Anneke’s sweet 
countenance ; for, in the simplicity of our provincial habits, 
we of the colonie| did not think it exactly in rule for the 
single to toast the married, or vice versa ; but the instant 
her friend was thus called on, it changed for a look of gen- 
tle concern. Mary Wallace manifested no concern, how- 
ever, but gave “ Mr. Francis Fordham.” 

“ Ay, Frank Fordham, with all my heart,” cried Herman 
Mordaunt. “ I hope he will return to his native country as 
straight-forward, honest, aud good as he left it.” 

“ Mr. Fordham is then abroad V 9 inquired Bulstrode. “ I 
thought the name new to me.” 

“ If being at home can be called being abroad. He is 
reading law at the Temple.” 

This was the answer of Mary Wallace, who looked as if 
she felt a friendly interest in the young Templar, but no 
more. She now called on Dirck for his lady. Throughout 
the whole of that daj', Dirck’s voice had hardly been heard ; 
a reserve that comported well enough with his youth and 
established diffidence. This appeal, however, seemed sud- 
denly to arouse all that there was of manhood in him; and 
that was not a little, I can tell the reader, when there was 
occasion to use it. Dirck’s nature was honesty itself; and 
he felt that the appeal was too direct, and the occasion too 
serious, to admit of duplicity. He loved but one, esteemed 
but one, felt for one only ; and it was not in his nature to 
cover his preference by any attempt at deception. After 
colouring to the ears, appearing distressed, he made an effort, 
and pronounced the name of — “ Anneke Mordaunt.” 

A common laugh rewarded this blunder ; common with 
all but the fair creature who had extorted this involuntary 
tribute, and myself, who knew Dirck’s character too well 
not to understand how very much he must be in earnest 
thus to lay bare the most cherished secret of his heart. 
The mirth continued some time, Herman Mordaunt appear- 
ing to be particularly pleased, and applauding his kinsman’s 
directness with several ‘ bravos’ very distinctly uttered. Aa 


S AT AN STOE. 


123 


4 


for Anneke, I saw she looked touched, while she looked 
concerned, and as if she would be glad to have the thing 
undone. 

“ After all, Dirck, much as I admire your spirit and 
plain dealing, boy,” cried Herman Mordaunt, “ Miss Wal- 
lace can never let such a toast pass. She will insist on 
having another.” 

“ I ! — I protest I am well pleased with it, and ask for no 
other,” exclaimed the lady in question. “ No toast can be 
more agreeable to me than Anneke Mordaunt, and I par- 
ticularly like the quarter from which this comes.” 

“ If friends can be trusted in a matter of this nature,” 
put in Bulstrode, with a little pique, “ Mr. Follock has every 
reason to be contented. Had I known, however, that the 
customs of New York allowed a lady who is present to be 
toasted, that gentleman would not have had the merit of 
being the first to make this discovery.” 

“ Nor is it,” said Herman Mordaunt ; “ and Dirck must 
hunt up another to supply my daughter’s place.” 

But no other was forthcoming from the stores of Dirck 
Follock’s mind. Had he a dozen names in reserve, not one 
of them would he have produced under circumstances that 
might seem like denying his allegiance to the girl already 
given ; but he could not name any other female. So, after 
some trifling, the company attributing Dirck’s hesitation to 
his youth and ignorance of the world, abandoned the at- 
tempt, desiring him to call on Anneke herself for a toast in 
turn. 

“ Cousin Dirck Van Valkenburgh,” said Anneke, with 
the greater self-possession and ease of her sex, though 
actually my friend’s junior by more than two years ; laying 
some emphasis, at the same time, on the word cousin. 

“ There !” exclaimed Dirck, looking exultingly at Bul- 
strode ; “ you see, gentlemen and ladies, that it is permitted 
to toast a person present, if you happen to respect and 
esteem that person !” 

“ By which, sir, we are to understand how much Miss 
Mordaunt respects and esteems Mr. Dirck Van Valkenburgh,” 
answered Bulstrode gravely. “ I am afraid there is only 
too much justice in an opinion that might, at the first blush, 
leem to savour of self-love.” 


Jk- 

A 


124 


S AT ANSTOE. 


“ An imputation I am far from denying,” returned 
Anneke, with a steadiness that showed wonderful self-com- 
mand, did she really return any of Dirck’s attachment. 
“ My kinsman gives me as his toast, and I give him as mine. 
Is there anything unnatural in that ?” 

Here there was an outbreak of raillery at Anneke’s ex- 
pense, which the young lady bore with a calmness and 
composure that at first astonished me. But when I came to 
reflect that she had been virtually at the head of her father’s 
house for several years, and that she had always associated 
with persons older than herself, it appeared more natural ; 
for it is certain we can either advance or retard the charac- 
ter by throwing a person into intimate association with those 
who, by their own conversation, manners, or acquirements, 
are most adapted for doing either. In a few minutes the 
interruption was forgotten by those who had no interest in 
the subject, and the singing commenced. I had obtained so 
much credit by my attempt at dinner, that I had the ex- 
treme gratification of being asked to sing another song by 
Anneke herself. Of course I complied, and I thought the 
company seemed pleased. As for my young hostess, I 
knew she looked more gratified with my song than with the 
afterpiece, and that I felt to be something. Dirck had an 
occasion to renew a little of the ground lost by the toast, 
for he sang a capital comic song in Low Dutch. It is true, 
not half the party understood him, but the other half laughed 
until the tears rolled down their cheeks, and there was 
something so droll in my friend’s manner, that everybody 
was delighted. The clocks struck twelve before we 
broke up. 

I staid in town but a day or two longer, meeting my new 
acquaintances every day, and sometimes twice a-day, how- 
ever, on Trinity Church Walk. I paid visits of leave-taking 
with a heavy heart, and most of all to Anneke and her 
father. 

“ I understood from Follock, “ said Herman Mordaunt, 
when I explained the object of my call, “ that you are to 
leave town to-morrow. Miss Mordaunt and her friend, Miss 
Wallace, go to Lilacsbush this afternoon ; for it is high time 
to look after the garden and the flowers, many of which are 
now in full bloom. I shall join them in the evening ; and I 


SAT ANSTOE . 


125 


propose that you, young men, take a late breakfast with us, 
on your way to Westchester. A cup of coffee before you 
start, and getting into your saddle at six, will bring all 
right. I promise you that you shall be on the road again 
by one, which will give you plenty of time to reach Satans- 
toe before dark.” 

I looked at Anneke, and fancied that the expression of 
her countenance was favourable. Dirck left everything to 
me, and I accepted the invitation. This arrangement 
shortened my visit in Crown Street, and I left the house 
with a lighter heart than that with which I had entered it. 
It is always so agreeable to get an unpleasant duty deferred ! 

Next day Dirck and I were in the saddle at six precisely, 
and we rode through the streets just as the blacks were 
washing down their stoops and side-walks ; though there 
were but very few of the last, in my youth. This is a 
commodious improvement, and one that it is not easy to see 
how the ladies could dispense with, and which is now getting 
to be pretty common ; all the new streets, I see, being pro- 
vided with the convenience. 

It was a fine May morning, and the air was full of the 
sweet fragrance of the lilac, in particular, as we rode into 
the country. Just as we got into the Bowery Lane, a horse- 
man was seen walking out of one of the by-streets, and 
coming our way. He no sooner caught sight of two travel- 
lers going in his own direction, than he spurred forward to 
join us ; being alone, and probably wishing company. As 
it would have been churlish to refuse to travel in company 
with one thus situated, we pulled up, walking our horses 
until the stranger joined us ,* when, to our surprise, it turned 
out to be Jason Newcome. The pedagogue was as much 
astonished when he recognised us, as we were in recognising 
him ; and I believe he was a little disappointed ; for Jason 
was so fond of making acquaintances, that it was always a 
pleasure to him to be thus employed. It appeared that lie 
had been down on the island to visit a relative, who had 
married and settled in that quarter ; and this was the reason 
we had not met since the morning of the affair of the lion. 
Of course we trotted on together, neither glad nor sorry at 
having this particular companion. 

I never could explain the process by means of which 
11 * 


126 


£ AT ANSTOE. 


Jason wound his way into everybody’s secrets. It is true*, 
he had no scruples about asking questions ; putting those 
which most persons would think forbidden by the usages of 
society, with as little hesitation as those which are univer- 
sally permitted. The people of New England have a repu- 
tation this way; and I remember to have heard Mr. Worden 
account for the practice in the following way : Everything 
and everybody was brought under rigid church government 
among the Puritans ; and, when a whole community gets 
the notion that it is to sit in judgment on every act of 
one of its members, it is quite natural that it should extend 
that right to an inquiry into all his affairs. One thing is 
certain ; our neighbours of Connecticut do assume a control 
over the acts and opinions of individuals that is not dreamed 
of in New York ; and I think it very likely that the practice 
of pushing inquiry into private things, has grown up under 
this custom. 

As one might suppose, Jason, whenever baffled in an at- 
tempt to obtain knowledge by means of inquiries, more or less 
direct, sought to advance his ends through conjectures ; tak- 
ing those that were the most plausible, if any such could be 
found, but putting up with those that had not even this ques- 
tionable recommendation, if nothing better offered. He 
was, consequently, for ever falling into the grossest errors, 
for, necessarily making his conclusions on premises drawn 
from his own ignorance and inexperience, he was liable to 
fall into serious mistakes at the very outset. Nor was this 
the worst ; the tendency of human nature not being very 
directly to charity, the harshest constructions were sometimes 
blended with the most absurd blunders, in his mind, and I 
have known him to be often guilty of assertions, that had 
no better foundation than these conjectures, which might 
have subjected him to severe legal penalties. 

On the present occasion, Jason was not long in ascer- 
taining where we were bound. This was done in a man- 
ner so characteristic and ingenious, that I will attempt to 
relate it. 

“ Why, you’re out early, this morning, gentlemen !” ex- 
claimed Jason, affecting surprise. “ What in natur’ has 
started you off before breakfast ?” 


SATANSTOE. 127 

“ So as to be certain not to lose our suppers at Satanstoe. 
this evening,” I answered. 

“ Suppers ? why, you will almost reach home (Jason 
would call this word hum) by dinner-time ; that is, your 
York dinner-time. Perhaps you mean to call by the way? * 

“ Perhaps we do, Mr. Newcome ; there are many pleasant 
families between this and Satanstoe.” 

“ I know there be. There ’s the great Mr. Van Cort- 
landt’s at Yonker’s ; perhaps you mean to stop there ?” 

“No, sir; we have no such intention.” 

“Then there’s the rich Count Philips’s, on the river; 
that would be no great matter out of the way ?” 

“ It ’s farther than we intend to turn.” 

“ Oh ! so you do intend to turn a bit aside ! Well, there ’s 
that Mr. Mordaunt, whose daughter you pulled out of the 
lion’s paws ; — he has a house near Iving’s-Bridge, called 
Lilacsbush.” 

“ And how did you ascertain that, Jason?” 

“By asking. Do you think I would let such a thing 
happen, and not inquire a little about the young lady ? No- 
thing is ever lost by putting a few questions, and inquiring 
round ; and I did not forget the rule in her case.” 

“ And you ascertained that the young lady’s father has a 
place called Lilacsbush, in this neighbourhood ?” 

“ I did ; and a queer York fashion it is to give a house a 
name, just as you would a Christian being; that must be a 
Roman Catholic custom, and some way connected with ido- 
latry.” 

“ Out of all doubt. It is far better to say, for instance, 
that we are going to breakfast at Mr. Mordaunt’s-es-es, than 
to say we intend to stop at Lilacsbush.” 

“ Oh! you be, be you ? Well, I thought it would turn out 
that some such place must have started you off so early. It 
will be a desperate late breakfast, Corny!” 

“ It will be at ten o’oclock, Jason, and that is rather later 
than common ; but our appetites will be so much the better.” 

To this Jason assented, and then commenced a series of 
manoeuvres to be included in the party. This we did not 
dare to do, however, and all Jason’s hints were disregarded, 
until, growing desperate by our evasions, he plumply pro- 
posed to go along, and we as plumply told him we would 


128 


S AT ANSTOE. 


take no such liberty with a man of Herman Mordaunt’a 
years, position and character. I do not know that we 
should have hesitated so much had we considered Jason a 
gentleman, but this was impossible. The custom of the 
colony admitted of great freedom in this respect, being very 
different from what it is at home, by all accounts, in these 
particulars ; but there was always an understanding that the 
persons one brought with him should be of a certain stamp 
and class in life ; recommendations to which Jason Newcome 
certainly had no claim. 

The case was getting to be a little embarrassing, when 
the appearance of Herman Mordaunt himself, fortunately 
removed the difficulty. Jason was not a man to be thrown 
off very easily ; but here was one who had the power, and 
who showed the disposition to set things right. Herman 
Mordaunt had ridden down the road a mile or two to meet 
us, intending to lead us by a private and shorter way to his 
residence, than that which was already known to us. He 
no sooner saw that Jason was of our company, than he 
asked that as a favour, which our companion would very 
gladly have accepted as a boon. 


CHAPTER IX. 


“ I question’d Love, whose early ray 
So heavenly bright appears ; 

And love, in answer, seem’d to say, 

His light was dimm’d by tears.” 

Heber. 

It was not long after the explanation occurred, as respects 
Jason, and the invitation was given to include him in our 
party, before Herman Mordaunt opened a gate, and led the 
way into the fields. A very tolerable road conducted us 
through some woods, to the heights, and we soon found our- 
selves on an eminence, that overlooked a long reach of the 
Hudson, extending from Haverstraw, to the north, as far as 


SAT ANSTOE. 


129 


Staten Island, to the south ; a distance of near forty miles. 
On the opposite shore, rose the wall-like barrier of the Pali- 
sadoes, lifting the table-land, on their summits, to an eleva- 
tion of several hundred feet. The noble river, itself, fully 
three-quarters of a mile in width, was unruffled by a breath 
of air, lying in one single, extended, placid sheet, under the 
rays of a bright sun, resembling molten silver. I scarce 
remember a lovelier morning ; everything appearing to har- 
monize with the glorious but tranquil grandeur of the view, 
and the rich promises of a bountiful nature. The trees were 
mostly covered with the beautiful clothing of a young ver- 
dure ; the birds had mated, and were building in nearly 
every tree ; the wild-flowers started up beneath the hoofs of 
our horses ; and every object, far and near, seemed, to my 
young eyes, to be attuned to harmony and love. 

“ This is a favourite ride of mine, in which Anneke often 
accompanies me,” said Herman Mordaunt, as we gained 
the commanding eminence I have mentioned. “ My daugh- 
ter is a spirited horse-woman, and is often my companion in 
these morning rides. She and Mary Wallace should be 
somewhere on the hills, at this moment, for they promised 
to follow me, as soon as they could dress for the saddle.” 

A cry of something like wild delight burst out of Dirck, 
and the next moment he was galloping away for an adjoin- 
ing ridge, on the top of which the beautiful forms of the two 
girls were just then visible; embellished by neatly-fitting 
habits, and beavers with drooping feathers. I pointed out 
these charming objects to Herman Mordaunt, and followed 
my friend, at half-speed. In a minute or two the parties 
had joined. 

Never had I seen Anneke Mordaunt so perfectly lovely, 
as she appeared that morning. The exercise and air had 
deepened a bloom that was always rich ; and her eyes re- 
ceived new lustre from the glow on her cheeks. Though 
expected, I thought she received us as particularly acceptable 
guests ; while Mary Wallace manifested more than an usual 
degree of animation, in her reception. Jason was not for- 
gotten, but was acknowledged as an old acquaintance, and 
was properly introduced to the friend. 

“ You frequently take these rides, Mr. Mordaunt tells me,” 
I said, reining my horse to the side of that of Anneke’s, as 


SATANSTOE, 


130 

the whole party moved on ; “ and I regret that Satanstoe is 
so distant, as to prevent our oftener meeting of a morning. 
We have many noted horse-women, in Westchester, who 
would be proud of such an acquisition.” 

“ I know several ladies, on your side of Harlem river,” 
Anneke answered, “ and frequently ride in their company ; 
but none so distant as any in your immediate neighbourhood. 
My father tells me, he used often to shoot over the fields of 
Satanstoe, when a youth ; and still speaks of your birds 
with great affection.” 

“ I believe our fathers were once brother-sportsmen. Mr. 
Bulstrode has promised to come and imitate their good ex- 
ample. Now you have had time to reflect on the plays you 
have seen, do you still feel the same interest in such repre- 
sentations as at first ?” 

“ I only wish there was not so much to condemn. I 
think Mr. Bulstrode might have reached eminence as a 
player, had not fortune put it, in one sense, beyond his 
reach, as an elder son, and a man of family.” 

“ Mr. Bulstrode, they tell me, is not only the heir of an 
old baronetcy, but of a large fortune ?” 

“ Such are the facts, I believe. Do you not think it cre- 
ditable to him, Mr. Littlepage, that one so situated, should 
come so far to serve his king and country, in a rude war 
like this of our colonies ?” 

I was obliged to assent, though I heartily wished that 
Anneke’s manner had been less animated and sincere, as 
she put the question. Still, I hardly knew what to think of 
her feelings towards that gentleman ; for, otherwise, she 
always heard him named with a calmness and self-posses- 
sion that I had observed was not shared by all her young 
companions, when there was occasion to allude to the gay 
and insinuating soldier. I need scarcely say, it was no dis- 
advantage to Mr. Bulstrode to be the heir of a baronetcy, in 
an English colony. Somehow or other, we are a little apt 
to magnify such accidental superiority, at a distance from 
home ; and I have heard Englishmen, themselves, acknow- 
ledge that a baronet was a greater man, in New York, than 
a duke was in London. These were things, that passed 
through my mind, as I rode along at Anneke’s side ; though 
I had the discretion not to give utterance to my thoughts. 


S AT ANSTOE. 


131 


“ Herman Mordaunt rode in advance, with Jason ; and 
ne led the party, by pretty bridle-paths, along the heights 
for nearly two miles, occasionally opening a gate, without 
dismounting, until he reached a point that overlooked Lilacs- 
bush, which was soon seen, distant from us less than half a 
mile. 

“ Here we are, on my own domain,” he said, as he pulled 
up to let us join him ; “ that last gate separating me from 
my nearest neighbour south. These hills are of no great 
use, except as early pastures, though they afford many beau- 
tiful views.” 

“ I have heard it predicted,” I remarked, “ that the time 
would come, some day, when the banks of the Hudson would 
contain many such seats as that of the Philipses, at Yonkers, 
and one or two more like it, that I am told are now standing 
above the Highlands.” 

“ Quite possibly ; it is not easy to foretell what may come 
to pass in such a country. I dare say, that in time, both 
towns and seats will be seen on the banks of the Hudson, 
and a powerful and numerous nobility to occupy the last. 
By the way, Mr. Littlepage, your father and my friend Col. 
Follock have been making a valuable acquisition in lands, 
[ hear ; having obtained a patent for an extensive estate, 
somewhere in the neighbourhood of Albany?” 

“ It is not so very extensive, sir, there being only some 
forty thousand acres of it, altogether ; nor is it very near 
Albany, by what I can learn, since it must lie at a distance 
of some forty miles, or more, from that town. Next winter, 
however, Dirck and myself are to go in search of the land, 
when we shall learn all about it.” 

“ Then we may meet in that quarter of the country. I 
have affairs of importance at Albany, which have been too 
long neglected ; and it has been my intention to pass some 
months at the north, next season, and early in the season, 
too. We may possibly meet in the woods.” 

“ You have been at Albany, I suppose, Mr. Mordaunt?” 

“ Quite often, sir; the distance is so great, that one has 
not much inducement to go there, unless carried by affairs, 
however, as has been my case. I was at Albany before my 
marriage, and have had various occasions to visit it since.” 

“ My father was there, when a soldier ; and he tells me 


132 


S ATANSTOE. 


it is a part of the province well worth seeing. At all events^ 
I shall encounter the risk and fatigue next season ; for it is 
useful to young persons to see the world. Dirck and my- 
self may make the campaign, should there be one in that 
direction.” 

I fancied Anneke manifested some interest in this conver 
sation ; but we rode on, and soon alighted at the door of 
Lilacsbush. Bulstrode was not in the way, and I had the 
supreme pleasure of helping Miss Mordaunt to alight, when 
we paused a moment before entering the house, to examine 
the view. I have given the reader some idea of the general 
appearance of the place ; but it was necessary to approach 
it, in order to form a just conception of its beauties. As its 
name indicated, the lawn, house, and out-buildings were all 
garnished or buried in lilacs, the whole of which were then 
in full blossom. The flowers filled the air with a species 
of purple light, that cast a warm and soft radiance even on 
the glowing face of Anneke, as she pointed out to me the 
magical effect. I know no flower that does so much to em- 
bellish a place, as the lilac, on a large scale, common as it 
is, and familiar as we have become with its hues and its 
fragrance. 

“ We enjoy the month our lilacs are out, beyond any 
month in the year,” said Anneke, smiling at my surprise 
and delight ; “ and we make it a point to pass most of it 
here. You will at least own, Mr. Littlepage, that Lilacs- 
bush is properly named.” 

“ The effect is more like enchantment than anything else !” 
I cried. “ I did not know that the simple, modest lilac could 
render anything so very beautiful !” 

“ Simplicity and modesty are such charms in themselves, 
sir, as to be potent allies,” observed the sensible but taciturn 
Mary Wallace. 

To this I assented, of course, and we all followed Mr. 
Mordaunt into the house. I was as much delighted with the 
appearance of things in the interior of Lilacsbush, as I had 
been with the exterior. Everywhere, it seemed to me, I met 
with the signs of Anneke’s taste and skill. I do not wish 
the reader to suppose that the residence itself was of the very 
first character and class, for this it could not lay claim to be. 
Still, it was one of those staid, story- and-a-half dwellings. 


SATANSTOE . 


133 


in which most of our first families were, and are content to 
dwell, in the country ; very much resembling the good old 
habitation at Satanstoe in these particulars. The furniture, 
however, was of a higher town-finish than we found it ne- 
cessary to use ; and the little parlour in which we break- 
fasted was a model for an eating-room. The buffets in the 
corners were so well polished that one might see his face in 
them ; the cellarets were ornamented with plated hinges, 
locks, &c., and the table itself shone like a mirror. I know 
not how it was, but the china appeared to me richer and 
neater than common under Anneke’s pretty little hand ; 
while the massive and highly-finished plate of the breakfast 
service, was such as could be wrought only in England. In 
a word, while everything appeared rich and respectable, 
there was a certain indescribable air of comfort, gentility, 
and neatness about the whole, that impressed me in an un- 
usual manner. 

“ Mr. Littlepage tells me, Anneke,” observed Herman 
Mordaunt, while we were at breakfast, “ that he intends to 
make a journey to the north, next winter, and it may be our 

good fortune to meet him there. The th expects to be 

ordered up as high as Albany, this summer ; and we may 
all renew our songs and jests, with Bulstrode and his gay 
companions, among the Dutchmen.” 

I was charmed with this prospect of meeting Anneke 
Mordaunt at the north, and took occasion to say as much; 
though I was afraid it was in an awkward and confused 
manner. 

“ I heard as much as this, sir, while we were riding,” 
answered the daughter. “ I hope cousin Dirck is to be of 
the party ?” 

Cousin Dirck assured her he was, and we discussed in 
anticipation the pleasure it must give to old acquaintances 
to meet so far from home. Not one of us, Herman Mor- 
daunt excepted, had ever been one hundred miles from his 
or her birth-place, as was ascertained on comparing notes. 
I was the greatest traveller ; Princeton lying between eighty 
and ninety miles .from Satanstoe, as the road goes. 

“ Perhaps I come nearer to it than any of you,” put in 
Jason, “ for my late journey on the island must have carried 
me nearly that far from Danbury. But, ladies, I can assure 
2 


8 AT ANSTOE. 


134 

you, a traveller has many opportunities for learning useful 
things, as I know by the difference there is between York 
and Connecticut.” 

“And which do you prefer, Mr. Newcome ?” asked Anneke, 
with a somewhat comical expression about her laughing eyes. 

“ That is hardly a fair question, Miss no reproof could 
break Jason of this vulgarism, “ since it might make ene- 
mies for a body to speak all of his mind in such matters. 
There are comparisons that should never be made, on 
account of circumstances that overrule all common efforts. 
New York is a great colony — a very great colony, Miss ; 
but it was once Dutch, as everybody knows, begging Mr. 
Follock’s pardon ; and it must be confessed Connecticut has, 
from the first, enjoyed almost unheard-of advantages, in the 
moral and religious character of her people, the excellence 
of her lands, and the purity” — Jason called this word 
“ poority but that did not alter the sentiment — though I 
must say, ofice for all, it is out of my power to spell every 
word as this man saw fit to pronounce it — “ of her people 
and church.” 

Herman Mordaunt looked up with surprise, at this speech ; 
but Dirck and I had heard so many like it, that we saw 
nothing out of the way on this particular occasion. As for 
the ladies, they were too well-bred to glance at each other, 
as girls sometimes will ; but I could see that each thought 
the speaker a very singular person. 

“ You find, then, a difference in customs between the two 
colonies, sir?” said Herman Mordaunt. 

“ A vast difference truly, sir. Now there was'lTTifrte 
thing happened about your daughter, ’Squire Mordaunt, the 
very first time I saw her” — the present was the second 
interview — “that could no more have happened in Con- 
necticut, than the whole of the province could be put into 
that tea-cup.” 

“ To my daughter, Mr. Newcome !” 

“Yes, sir, to your own daughter; Miss, that sits them 
looking as innocent as if it had never come to pass.” 

“ This is so extraordinary, sir, that I must beg an expla- 
nation.” 

“ You may well call it extr’ornary, for extr’ornary it 
would be called all over Connecticut ; and I ’ll never give 


SATANSTOE. 135 

up that York, if this be a York usage, is or can be right in 
such a matter, at least.” 

“ I entreat you to be more explicit, Mr. Newcome.” 

“ VVhy, sir, you must know, Corny, here, and I, and 
Dirck there, went in to see the lion, about which no doubt 
you ’ve heard so much, and Corny paid for Miss’s ticket 
Well, that was all right enough, but ” 

“ Surely, Anneke, you have not forgotten to return to 
Mr. Littlepage the money !” 

“ Listen patiently, my dear sir, and you will get the 
whole story, my delinquencies and debts included, if any 
there are.” 

“ That ’s just what she did, ’Squire Mordaunt, and I 
maintain there is not the man in all Connecticut that would 
have taken it. If ladies can’t be treated to sights, and 
other amusements, I should like to know who is to be so.” 

Herman Mordaunt, at first, looked gravely at the speaker, 
but catching the expression of our eyes he answered with the 
tact of a perfectly well-bred man, as he certainly was, on 
all occasions that put him to the proof — 

“ You must overlook Miss Mordaunt’s adhering to her 
own customs, Mr. Newcome, on account of her youth, and 
her little knowledge of any world but that immediately 
around her. When she has enjoyed an opportunity of 
visiting Danbury, no doubt she will improve by the occasion.” 

“ But, Corny, sir — think of Corny’s falling into such a 
mistake !” 

“ As for Mr. Littlepage, I must suppose he labours under 
somewhat of the same disadvantage. We are less gallant 
here than you happen to be in Connecticut; hence our 
inferiority. At some future day, perhaps, when society 
shall have made a greater progress among us, our youths 
will come to see the impropriety of permitting the fair sex 
to pay for anything, even their own ribands. I have long 
known, sir, that you of New England claim to treat your 
women better than they are treated in any other portion of 
the inhabited world, and it must be owing to that circumstance 
that they enjoy the advantage of being ‘ treated’ for nothing.” 

With this concession Jason was apparently content. 
How much of this provincial feeling, arising from provin- 
cial ignorance, have I seen since that time ! It is certain 


S AT ANSTOE. 


136 

that our fellow-subjects of the eastern provinces are not 
addicted to hiding their lights under bushels, but make the 
most of all their advantages. That they are superior to us 
of York, in some respects, I am willing enough to allow ; 
but there are certainly points on which this superiority is 
far less apparent. As for Jason, he was entirely satisfied 
with the answer of Herman Mordaunt, and often alluded to 
the subject afterwards, to my prejudice, and with great self- 
complacency. To be sure, it is a hard lesson to beat into 
the head of the self-sufficient colonist, that his own little 
corner of the earth does not contain all that is right, and 
just, and good, and refined. 

I left Lilacsbush, that day, deeply in love. I hold it to 
be unmanly to attempt to conceal it. Anneke had made a 
lively impression on me from the very first, but that im- 
pression had now gone deeper than the imagination, and 
had very sensibly touched the heart. Perhaps it was ne- 
cessary to see her in the retirement of the purely domestic 
circle, to give all her charms their just ascendency. While 
in town, I had usually met her in crowds, surrounded by 
admirers or other young persons of her own sex, and there 
was less opportunity for viewing the influence of nature and 
the affections on her manner. With Marj Wallace at 
her side, however, there was always one on whom she 
could exhibit just enough of these feelings to bring out the 
loveliness of her nature without effort or affectation. Anne 
Mordaunt never spoke to her friend without a cha nge ap- 
pearing in her manner. Affection thrilled in the tones of 
her voice, confidence beamed in her eye, and esteem and 
respect were to be gathered from the expectation and 
deference that shone in her countenance. Mary Wallace 
was two years the oldest, and these years taken in connec- 
tion with her character, entitled her to receive this tribute 
from her nearest associate; but all these feelings flowed 
spontaneously from the heart, for never was an intercourse 
between two of the sex more thoroughly free from acting. 

It was a proof that passion was getting the mastery over 
me, that I now forgot Dirck, his obvious attachment, older 
claims, and possible success. I know not how it was, or 
why it was, but it was certain that Herman Mordaunt had 
a great regard for Dirck Van Valkenburgh. The affinity 


S AT ANSTOE . 


137 


may have counted for something, and it was possible that the 
father was already weighing the advantages that might 
accrue from such a connection. Col. Follock had the re- 
putation of being rich, as riches were then counted among 
us ; and the young fellow himself, in addition to a fine manly 
figure, that was fast developing itself into the frame of a 
youthful Hercules, had an excellent temper, and a good 
reputation. Still, this idea never troubled me. Of Dirck I 
had no fears, while Bulstrode gave me great uneasiness, 
from the first. I saw all his advantages, may have even 
magnified them ; while those of my near and immediate 
friend, gave me no trouble whatever. It is possible, had 
Dirck presented himself oftener, or more distinctly to my 
mind, a feeling of magnanimity might have induced me to 
withdraw in time, and leave him a field to which he had 
the earliest claim. But, after the morning at Lilacsbush, 
it was too late for any such sacrifice on my part ; and I rode 
away from the house, at the side of my friend, as forgetful 
of his interest in Anneke, as if he had never felt any. Mag- 
nanimity and I had no further connection in relation to my 
pretensions to Anneke Mordaunt. 

“ Well,” commenced Jason, as soon as we were fairly in 
the saddle, “ these Mordaunts are even a notch above your 
folks, Corny ? There was more silver vessels in that room 
where we ate, than there is at this moment in all Danbury I 
The extravagance amounts to waste. The old gentleman 
must be desperate rich, Dirck ?” 

“ Herman Mordaunt has a good estate, and very little of 
it has gone for plate, Jason ; that which you saw is old, and 
came either from Holland, or England ; one home, or the 
other.” 

“ Oh ! Holland is no home for me, boy. Depend on it, all 
that plate is not put there for nothing. If the truth could be 
come at, this Herman Mordaunt, as you call him, though I 
do not see why you cannot call him 5 Squire Mordaunt, like 
other folks, but this Mr. Mordaunt has some notion, I con- 
clude, to get his daughter off on one of these rich English 
officers, of whom there happen to be so many in the pro- 
vince, just at this time. I never saw the gentleman, but 
there was one Bulstrode named pretty often this forenoon,” 
— Jason’s morning always terminated at his usual breakfast 
12 * 


138 


S AT ANSTOE . 


hour, — “ and I rather conclude he will turn out to be the 
chap, in the long run. Such is my calculation, and they 
don’t often fail.” 

I saw a quick, surprised start in Dirck ; but I felt such a 
twinge myself, that there was little opportunity to inquire 
into the state of my friend’s feelings, at this coarse, but un- 
expected remark. 

“ Have you any particular reason, Mr. Newcome, fo* 
venturing such an opinion?” I asked, a little sternly. 

“Come, don’t let us, out here in the high- way, begin to 
mister one another. You are Corny, Dirck is Dirck, and 
I am Jason. The shortest way is commonly the best way, 
and I like given-names among friends. Have I any parti- 
cular reason ? — Yes ; plenty on ’em, and them that’s good. 
In the first place, no man has a daughter,” — darter a la 
Jason, — “ that he does not begin to think of setting her out 
in the world, accordin’ to his abilities ; then, as I said be- 
fore, these folks from home” (hum) “ are awful rich, and 
rich husbands are always satisfactory to parents, what- 
ever they may be to children. Besides, some of these 
officers will fall heirs to titles, and that is a desperate tempt- 
ation to a woman, all over the world. I hardly think there 
is a young woman in Danbury that could hold out agin’ a 
real title.” 

It has always struck me as singular, that iha^eople of 
Jason’s part of the provinces should entertain so much pro- 
found respect for titles. No portion of the world is of 
simpler habits, nor is it easier to find any civilized people 
among whom there is greater equality of actual condition, 
which, one would think, must necessarily induce equality 
of feeling, than in Connecticut, at this very moment. Not- 
withstanding these facts, the love of title is so great, that 
even that of serjeant is often prefixed to the name of a man 
on his tombstone, or in the announcement of his death or 
marriage; and as for the militia ensigns and lieutenants, 
there is no end to them. Deacon is an important title, 
which is rarely omitted ; and wo betide the man who should 
forget to call a magistrate “ esquire.” No such usages pre- 
vail among us ; or, if they do, it is among that portion of 
the people of this colony which is derived from New Eng- 
land, and still retains some of its customs. Then, in no 


S AT ANSTOE . 


139 

part of the colonies is English rank more deferred to, than 
in New England, generally, notwithstanding most of those 
colonies possess the right to elect nearly every officer they 
have among them. 1 allow that we of New York defer 
greatly to men of birth and rank from home, and it is right 
we should so do ; but I do not think our deference is as 
great, or by any means as general, as it is in New England. 
It is possible the influence of the Dutch may have left an 
impression on our state of society, though I have been told 
that the colonies farther south exhibit very much the same 
characteristics as we do, ourselves, on this head.* 

We reached Satanstoe a little late, in consequence of the 
delay at Lilacsbush, and were welcomed with affection and 
warmth. My excellent mother was delighted to see me 
at home again, after so long an absence, and one which she 
did not think altogether without peril, when it was remem- 
bered that I had passed a whole fortnight amid the tempta- 
tions and fascinations of the capital. I saw the tears in her 
eyes as she kissed me, again and again, and felt the gentle, 


* As respects the love of titles that are derived from the people, 
there is nothing opposed to strict republican, or if the reader will, de- 
mocratic, principles, since it is deferring to the power that appoints, 
and manifests a respect for that which the community chooses to elevate. 
But, the deference to English rank, mentioned by Mr. Littlepage, is 
undeniably greater among the mass in New England, than it is any- 
where else in this country, at this very moment. One leading New 
York paper, edited by New England men, during the last contro- 
versy about the indemnity to be paid by France, actually styled the 
Due de Broglie “ his grace,” like a Grub Street cockney, — a mode of 
address that would astonish that respectable statesman, quite as much 
as it must have amused every man of the world who saw it. I have 
been much puzzled to account for this peculiarity — unquestionably 
one that exists in the country — but have supposed it must be owing 
to the diffusion of information which carries intelligence sufficiently far 
to acquaint the mass with leading social features, without going far 
enough to compensate for a provincial position and provincial habits. 
Perhaps the exclusively English origin of the people may have an 
influence. The writer has passed portions of two seasons in Swit- 
zerland, and, excluding the small forest cantons, he has no hesitation 
jn saying that the habits and general notions of Connecticut are 
more inherently democratical than those of any part of that country. 
Notwithstanding, he thinks a nobleman, particularly an English 
nobleman, is a far greater man in New England, than he is among 
the real middle-state families of New York. — Editor. 


S AT ANSTOE . 


140 

warm embrace, as she pressed me to her bosom, in maternal 
thanksgiving. 

Of course, I had to render an account of all I had seen 
and done, including Pinkster, the theatre, and the lion. I 
said nothing, however, of the Mordaunts, until questioned 
about them by my mother, quite a fortnight after Dirck had 
gone across to Rockland. One morning, as I sat endea- 
vouring to write a sonnet in my own room, that excellent 
parent entered and took a seat near my table, with the fami- 
liarity the relation she bore me justified. She was knitting 
at the time, for never was she idle, except when asleep. I 
saw by the placid smile on her face, which, Heaven bless 
her ! was still smooth and handsome, that something was 
on her mind, that was far from disagreeable ; and I waited 
with some curiosity for the opening. That excellent mo- 
ther ! How completely did she live out of herself in all 
that had the most remote bearing on my future hopes and 
happiness ! 

“ Finish your writing, my son,” commenced my mother, 
for I had instinctively striven to conceal the sonnet; “finish 
your writing ; until you have done, I will be silent.” 

“ I have done, now, mother ; ’twas only a copy of verses 
I was endeavouring to write out — you know — that is — write 
out, you know.” 

“ I did not know you were a poet, Corny,” returned my 
mother, smiling still more complacently, for it is something 
to be the parent of a poet. 

“ I ! — I a poet, mother 1 — I ’d sooner turn school-master, 
than turn poet. Yes, I ’d sooner be Jason Newcome, him- 
self, than even suspect it possible I could be a poet.” 

“ Well, never mind ; people never turn poets, I fancy, 
with their eyes open. But, what is this I hear of your 
having saved a beautiful young lady from the jaws of a 
lion, while you were in town ; and why was I left to learn 
all the particulars from Mr. Newcome ?” 

I believe my face was of the colour of scarlet, for it felt 
as if it were on fire, and my mother smiled still more de- 
cidedly than ever. Speak ! I could not have spoken to bo 
thus smiled on by Anneke. 

“ There is nothing to be ashamed of, Corny, in rescuing 
a young lady from a lion, or in going to her father’s to 


S AT ANSTOE. 


141 


receive the thanks of the family. The Mordaunts are a 
family any one can visit with pleasure. Was the battle 
between you and the beast, a very desperate conflict, my 
child 7” 

“ Poh ! mother : — Jason is a regular dealer in marvels, 
and he makes mountains of mole-hills. In the first place, 
for ‘jaws,’ you must substitute ‘ paws,’ and for a ‘young 
lady,’ * her shawl.’ ” 

“ Yes, I understand it was the shawl, but it was on her 
shoulders, and could not have been disengaged time enough 
to save her, had you not shown so much presence of mind 
and courage. As for the ‘jaws,’ I believe that was my 
mistake, for Mr. Newcome certainly said ‘ claws.’ ” 

“ Well, mother, have it your own way. I was of a little 
service to a very charming young woman, and she and her 
father were civil to me, as a matter of course. Herman 
Mordaunt is a name we all know, and, as you say, his is a 
family that any man may be proud of visiting, ay, and 
pleased too.” 

“ How odd it is, Corny,” added my mother, in a sort of 
musing, soliloquizing way, — “ you are an only child, and 
Anneke Mordaunt is also an only child, as Dirck Follock 
has often told me.” 

“ Then Dirck has spoken to you frequently of Anneke, 
before this, mother 7” 

“ Time and again ; they are relations, you must have 
heard ; as, indeed, you are yourself, if you did but know 
it.” 

“ 1 7 — I related to Anneke Mordaunt, without being too 
near ?” 

My dear mother smiled again, while I felt sadly ashamed 
of myself at the next instant. I believe that a suspicion 
of the truth, as respects my infant passion, existed in that 
dear parent’s mind from that moment. 

“ Certainly related, Corny, and I will tell you how. My 
great-great-grandmother, Alida van der Heyden, was a first 
cousin of Herman Mordaunt’s great-great-grandmother, by 
his mother’s side, who was a Van Kleeck. So, you see, 
you and Anneke are actually related.” 

“ Just near enough, mother, to put one at ease in their 


142 SATANSTOE. 

house, and not so near as to make relationship trouble- 
some.” 

“ They tell me, my child, that Anneke is a sweet crea- 
ture !” 

“ If beauty, and modesty, and grace, and gentleness, and 
spirit, and sense, and delicacy, and virtue, and piety, can 
make any young woman of seventeen a sweet creature, 
mother, then Anneke is sweet.” 

My dear mother seemed surprised at my warmth, but she 
smiled still more complacently than ever. Instead of pur- 
suing the subject, however, she saw fit to change it, by 
speaking of the prospects of the season, and the many 
reasons we all had for thankfulness to God. I presume, 
with a woman’s instinct, she had learned enough to satisfy 
her mind for the present. 

The summer soon succeeded to the May that proved so 
momentous to me ; and I sought occupation in the fields. 
Occupation, however, would not do. Anneke was with me, 
go where I would ; and glad was I when Dirck, about mid- 
summer, in one of his periodical visits to Satanstoe, proposed 
that we should ride over, and make another visit to Lilacs- 
bush. He had written a note, to say we should be glad to 
ask a dinner and beds, if it were convenient, for a day a 
short distance ahead ; and he waited the answer at the Neck. 
This answer arrived duly by mail, and was everything 
we could wish. Herman Mordaunt offered us a hearty wel- 
come, and sent the grateful intelligence that his daughter 
and Mary Wallace would both be present to receive us. I 
envied Dirck the manly feeling which had induced him to 
take this plain and respectable course to his object. 

We went across the country, accordingly, and reached 
Lilacsbush several hours before dinner. Anneke received 
us with a bright suffusion of the face, and kind smiles ; 
though I could not detect the slightest difference in her 
manners to either. To both was she gracious, gentle, at- 
tentive, and lady-like. No allusion was made to the past, 
except a few remarks that were given on the subject of the 

theatre. The officers had continued to play until the th 

had been ordered up the river, when Bulstrode, Billings, 
Harris, virtuous Marcia, and all, had proceeded to Albany 
in company. Anneke thought there was about as much to 


S AT ANSTOE. 


143 


be displeased with, as there was to please, in these repre- 
sentations ; though her removal to the country had prevent- 
ed her seeing more than three of them all. It was admitted 
all round, however, that Bulstrode played admirably ; and 
it was even regretted by certain persons, that he should not 
have been devoted to the stacre. 

o 

We passed the night at Lilacsbush, and remained an hour 
or two after breakfast, next morning. I had carried a warm 
invitation from both my parents to Herman Mordaunt, to 
ride over, with the young ladies, and taste the fish of the 
Sound ; and the visit was returned in the course of the 
month of September. My mother received Anneke as a 
relation ; though I believe that both Herman Mordaunt and 
his daughter were surprised to learn that they came within 
even the wide embrace of Dutch kindred. They did not 
seem displeased, however, for the family name of my mother 
was good, and no one need have been ashamed of affinity to 
her , on her own account. Our guests did not remain the 
night, but they left us in a sort of a chaise that Herman 
Mordaunt kept for country use, about an hour before sun- 
set. I mounted my horse, and rode five miles with the 
party, on its way back, and then took my leave of Anneke, 
as it turned out, for many, many weary months. 

The year 1757 was memorable in the colonies, by the 
progress of the war, and as much so in New York as in any 
other province. Montcalm had advanced to the head of 
Lake George, had taken Fort William Henry, and a fearful 
massacre of the garrison had succeeded. This bold opera- 
tion left the enemy in possession of Champlain ; and the 
strong post of Ticonderoga was adequately garrisoned by a 
formidable force. A general gloom was cast over the poli- 
tical affairs of the colony ; and it was understood that a 
great effort was to be made, the succeeding campaign, to 
repair the loss. Rumour spoke of large reinforcements 
from home, and of greater levies in the colonies themselves 
than had been hitherto attempted. Lord Loudon was to re- 
turn home, and a veteran of the name of Abercrombie was 
to succeed him in the command of all the forces of the king. 
Regiments began to arrive from the West Indies; and, in 
the course of the winter of 1757-8, we heard at Satanstoe 
of the gaieties that these new forces had introduced into the 


144 


SATAN8TOE. 


town. Among other things, a regular corps of Thespians 
had arrived from the West Indies. 


CHAPTER X. 

« Dear Hasty-Pudding, what unpromised joy 
Expands my heart to meet thee in Savoy ! 

Doom’d o’er the world through devious paths to roam, 

Each clime my country, and each house my home, 

My soul is sooth’d, my cares have found an end : 

I greet my long-lost, unforgotten friend.” 

Barlow. 

The winter was soon drawing to a close, and my twenty- 
first birth-day was past. My father and Col. Follock, who 
came over to smoke more than usual that winter with my 
father, began to talk of the journey Dirck and I were to 
take, in quest of the Patent. Maps were procured, calcula- 
tions were made, and different modes of proceeding were 
proposed, by the various members of the family. I will 
acknowledge that the sight of the large, coarse, parchment 
map of the Mooseridge Patent, as the new acquisition was 
called, from the circumstance of the surveyors having shot 
a moose on a particular ridge of land in its centre, excited 
certain feelings of avarice within my mind. There were 
streams meandering among hills and valleys ; little lakes, or 
ponds, as they were erroneously called in the language of 
the country, dotted the surface ; and there were all the 
artistical proofs of a valuable estate that a good map-maker 
could devise, to render the whole pleasing and promising.* 

* Forty years ago, a gentleman in New York purchased a consider- 
able body of wild land, on the faith of the map. When he came to 
examine his new property, it was found to be particularly wanting in 
water-courses. The surveyor was sought, and rebuked for his decep- 
tion, the map having numerous streams, &c. “Why did you lay 
down all these streams here, where none are to be found ?” demanded 
the irritated purchaser, pointing to the document. “ Why ? — Why, 
who the d — 1 ever saw a map without rivers ?” was the answer.— 
Editor. 


SA TANS TOE. 


145 


[f it were a good thing to be the heir of Satanstoe, it was 
far better to be the tenant in common, with my friend 
Dirck, of all these ample plains, rich bottoms, flowing 
streams and picturesque lakes. In a word, for the first 
time, in the history of the colonies, the Littlepages had be- 
come the owners of what might be termed an estate. Ac- 
cording to our New York parlance, six or eight hundred 
acres are not an estate ; nor two or three thousand, scarcely; 
but ten, or twenty, and much more, forty thousand acres of 
land might be dignified with the name of an estate ! 

The first knotty point discussed, was to settle the manner 
in which Dirck and myself should reach Mooseridge. Two 
modes of going as far as Albany offered, and on one of 
these it was our first concern to decide. We misht wait 
until the river opened, and go as far as Albany in a sloop, 
of which one or two left town each week when business 
was active, as it was certain to be in the spring of the year. 
It was thought, however, that the army would require most 
of the means of transportation of this nature that offered ; 
and it might put us to both inconvenience and delay, to 
wait on the tardy movements of quarter-masters and con- 
tractors. My grandfather shook his head when the thing 
was named, and advised us to remain as independent as 
possible. 

“ Have as little as possible to do with such people, 
Corny,” put in my grandfather, now a grey-headed, vene- 
rable-looking old gentleman, who did not wear his wig half 
the time, but was content to appear in a pointed night-cap 
and gown at all hours, until just before dinner was an- 
nounced, when he invariably came forth dressed as a gen- 
tleman — “ Have as little as possible to do with these gentry, 
Corny. Money, and not honour, is their game ; and you 
will be treated like a barrel of beef, or a bag of potatoes, if 
you fall into their hands. If you move with the army at 
all, keep among the real soldiers, my boy, and, above all 
things, avoid the contractors.” 

It was consequently determined that there was too much 
uncertainty and delay in waiting for a passage to Albany 
by water ; for it was known that the voyage itself often 
lasted ten days, or a fortnight, and it would be so late be- 
fore we could sail, as to render this delay very inconvenient, 

' 3 


146 


SAT ANSTOE. 


The other mode of journeying, was to go before the snow 
had melted from the roads, by the aid of which, it was 
quite possible to make the distance between Satanstoe and 
Albany in three days. 

Certain considerations of economy next offered, and we 
settled down on the following plan ; which, as it strikes me, 
is, even now, worthy of being mentioned on account of its 
prudence and judgment. It was well known that there 
would be a great demand for horses for the army, as well 
as for stores, provisions, &c., of various sorts. Now, we 
had on the Neck several stout horses, that were falling into 
years, though still serviceable and good for a campaign. 
Col. Follock had others of the same description, and when 
the cavalry of the two farms were all assembled at Satans- 
toe, there were found to be no fewer than fourteen of the 
venerable animals. These made just three four-horse teams, 
besides leaving a pair for a lighter load. Old, stout lumber 
sleighs were bought, or found, and repaired ; and Jaap, 
having two other blacks with him, was sent off at the head 
of what my father called a brigade of lumber sleighs, all 
of which were loaded with the spare pork and flour of the 
two families. The war had rendered these articles quite 
high; but the hogs that were slaughtered at Christmas had 
not yet been sold ; and it was decided that Dfrck and myself 
could not commence our career as men who had to buy and 
sell from the respective farms, in any manner more likely to 
be useful to us and to our parents, than this. As Yaap’s 
movements were necessarily slow, he was permitted to pre- 
cede Dirck and myself by two entire days, giving him time 
to clear the Highlands before we left Satanstoe. The negroes 
carried the provender for their horses, and no small portion 
of the food, and all of the cider that was necessary for their 
own consumption. No one was ashamed of economising 
with his slaves in this manner; the law of slavery itself 
existing principally as a money-making institution. I men- 
tion these little matters, that posterity may understand the 
conventional feeling of the colony, on such points. 

When everything was ready, we had to listen to much 
good advice from our friends, previously to launching our- 
selves into the world. What Col. Follock said to Dirck, 
the latter never told me ; but the following was pretty much 


SATAN STOE. 


147 


{he form and substance of that which I received from my 
own father — the interview taking place in a little room he 
called his “ office or “ study,” as Jason used to term it. 

“ Here, Corny, are all the bills, or invoices, properly 
made out,” my father commenced, handing me a small sheaf 
of papers; “and you will do well to consult them before 
you make any sales. Here are letters of introduction to 
several gentlemen in the army, whose acquaintance I could 
wish you to cultivate. This, in particular, is to my old 
captain, Charles Merrewether, who is now a Lt. Col., and 
commands a battalion in the Royal Americans. You will 
find him of great service to you while you remain with the 
army, I make no doubt. Pork, they tell me, if of the quality 
of that you will have, ought to bring three half joes, the 
barrel — and you might ask that much. Should accident pro- 
cure you an invitation to the table of the Commander-In- 
Chief, as may happen through Col. Merrewether’s friendship, 
I trust you will do full credit to the loyalty of the Littlepages. 
Ah ! there ’s the flour, too ; it ought to be worth two half 
joes the barrel, in times like these. I have thrown in a 
letter or two to some of the Schuylers, with whom I served 
when of your age. They are first-rate people, remember, 
and rank among the highest families of the colonies; full 
of good old Van Cortlandt blood, and well crossed with the 
Rensselaers. Should any of them ask you about the barrel 
of tongues, that you will find marked T — ” 

“Any of whom, sir ; the Schuylers, the Cortlandts, or the 
Rensselaers ?” 

“ Poh ! any of the sutlers, or contractors, I mean, of 
course. You can tell them that they were cured at home, 
and that you dare recommend them as fit for the Com- 
mander-In-Chief’s own table.” 

Such was the character of my father’s parting instruc- 
tions. My mother held a different discourse. 

“ Corny, my beloved child,” she said ; “ this will be an 
all-important journey to you. Not only are you going far 
from home, but you are going to a part of the country where 
much will be to be seen. I hope you will remember what 
was promised for you, by your sponsors in baptism, and also 
what is owing to your own good name, and that of your 
family. The letters you take with you, will probably in- 


148 


SATANSTOE. 


troduce you to good company, and that is a great beginning 
to a youth. I wish you to cultivate the society of reputable 
females, Corny. My sex has great influence on the con- 
duct of yours, at your time of life, and both your manners 
and principles will be aided by being as much with women 
of character as possible.” 

“ But, mother, if we are to go any distance with the 
army, as both my father and Col. Follock wish, it will not 
be in our power to be much in ladies’ society.” 

“ I speak of the time you will pass in and near Albany. 
I do not expect you will find accomplished women at Moose- 
ridge, nor, should you really go any distance with the 
troops, though I see no occasion for your going with them 
a single foot, since you are not a soldier, do I suppose you 
will find many reputable women in the camp ; but, avail 
yourself of every favourable opportunity to go into good 
company. I have procured a letter for you, from a lady 
of one of the great families of this county, to Madam Schuy- 
ler, who is above all other women, they tell me, in and 
around Albany. Her you must see, and I charge you, on 
your duty, to deliver this letter. It is possible, too, that 
Herman Mordaunt ” ' 

“ What of Herman Mordaunt and Anneke, mother?” 

“ I spoke only of Herman Mordaunt himself, and did not 
mention Anneke, boy,” answered my mother, smiling 
“ though I doubt not that the daughter is with the father. 
They left town for Albany, two months since, my sister 
Legge writes me, and intend to pass the summer north. I 
will not deceive you, Corny, so you shall hear all that your 
aunt has written on the subject. In the first place, she says 
Herman Mordaunt has gone on public service, having an 
especial appointment for some particular duty of import- 
ance, that is private, but which it is known will detain him 
near Albany, and among the northern posts, until the close 
of the season, though he gives out to the world, he is absent 
on account of some land he has in Albany county. His 
daughter and Mary Wallace are with him, with several ser- 
vants, and they have taken up with them a sleigh-load of 
conveniences ; that looks like remaining. Now, you ought 
to hear the rest, my child, though I feel no apprehension 
when such a youth as yourself is put in competition with 


SATANSTOE. 149 

any other man in the colony. Yes, though your own mo- 
ther, I think I may say that /” 

“What is it, mother? — never mind me; I shall do well 
enough, depend on it — that is — but what is it, dear mother?” 

“ Why, your aunt says, it is whispered among a few in 
town, a very few only, but whispered, that Herman Mor- 
daunt got the appointment named, merely that he might 

have a pretence for taking Anneke near the th, in 

which regiment it seems there is a baronet’s son, who is a 
sort of relative of his, and whom he wishes to marry to 
Anneke.” 

“ I am sorry, then, that my aunt Legge listens to any 
such unworthy gossip!” I indignantly cried. “My life on 
it, Anneke Mordaunt never contemplated so indelicate a 
thing !” 

“ No one supposes Anneke does, or did. But fathers are 
not daughters, Corny ; no, nor mothers neither, as I can 
freely say, seeing you are my only child. Herman Mor- 
daunt. may imagine all this in his heart, and Anneke be 
every thing that is innocent and delicate.” 

“ And how can my aunt Legge’s informants know what 
is in Herman Mordaunt’s heart ?” 

“ How ? — I suppose they judge by what they find in their 
own, my son ; a common means of coming at a neighbour’s 
failings, though I believe virtues are rarely detected by the 
same process.” 

“ Ay, and judge of others by themselves. The means 
may be common, mother, but they are not infallible.” 

“ Certainly not, Corny, and that will be a ground of 
hope to you. Remember, my child, you can bring me no 
daughter I shall love half as well as I feel I can love 
Anneke Mordaunt. We are related too, her father’s great- 
great-grandmother ” 

“ Never mind the great-great-grandmother, my dear, 
good, excellent, parent. After this I shall not attempt to 
have any secret from you. Unless Anneke Mordaunt con- 
sent to be your daughter, you will never have one.” 

“ Do not say that, Corny, I beseech you,” cried my 
mother, a good deal frightened. “ Remember there is no 
accounting for tastes ; the army is a formidable rival, and, 
after all, this Mr. Bulstrode, I think vou call him, may prove 
13 * 


150 


S AT ANSTOE . 


as acceptable to Anneke as to her father. Do not say so 
cruel a thing, I entreat of you, dearest, dearest, Corny.” 

“It is not a minute, mother, since you said how little you 
apprehended for me, when opposed by any other man in the 
province !” 

“ Yes, child, but that is a very different thing from seeing 
you pass all your days as a heartless, comfortless old 
bachelor. There are fifty young women in this very 
county, I could wish to see you united to, in preference to 
witnessing such a calamity.” 

“ Well, mother, we will say no more about it. But is it 
true that Mr. Worden actually intends to be of our party ?” 

“ Both Mr. Worden and Mr. Newcome, I believe. We 
shall scarcely know how to spare the first, but he conceives 
he has a call to accompany the army, in which there are 
so few chaplains; and souls are called to their last dread 
account so suddenly in war, that one does not know how to 
refuse to let him go.” 

My poor, confiding mother ! When I look back at the 
past, and remember the manner in which the Rev. Mr. 
Worden discharged the duties of his sacred office during 
the campaign that succeeded, I cannot but smile at the 
manner in which confidence manifests itself in woman. 
The sex has a natural disposition to place their trusts in 
priests, by a very simple process of transferring their own 
dispositions to the bosoms of those they believe set apart 
for purely holy objects. Well, we live and learn. I dare 
say that many are what they profess to be, but I have lived 
long enough now to know all are not. As for Mr. Worden, 
he had one good point about him, at any rate. His friends 
and his enemies saw the worst of him. He was no hypo- 
crite, but his associates saw the man very much as he was. 
Still, I am far from wishing to hold up this imported minis- 
ter as a model of Christian graces for my descendants to 
admire. No one can be more convinced than myself how 
much sectarians are prone to substitute their own narrow 
notions of right and wrong for the Law of God, confound- 
ing acts that are perfectly innocent in themselves with-sin ; 
but, at the same time, I am quite aware too, that appear- 
ances are ever to be consulted in cases of morals, and that 
it is a minor virtue to be decent in matters of manners. 


SATANSTOE . 


151 

The Rev. Mr. Worden, whatever might have been his posi- 
tion as to substantials, certainly carried the external of 
liberality to the verge of indiscretion. 

A day or two after the conversation I have related, our 
party left Satanstoe, with some eclat. The team belonged 
equally to the Follocks and the Littlepages, one horse being 
the property of my father, while the other belonged to Col. 
Follock. The sleigh, an old one new painted for the occa- 
sion, was the sole property of the latter gentleman, and was 
consigned, in mercantile phrase, to Dirck, in order to be 
disposed of as soon as we should reach the end of our 
journey. On its exterior it was painted a bright sky-blue, 
while its interior was of vermilion, a colour that was and 
is much in vogue for this species of vehicle, inasmuch as it 
carries with it the idea of warmth ; so, at least, the old peo- 
ple say, though I will confess I never found my toes any 
less cold in a sleigh thus painted, than in one painted blue, 
which is usually thought a particularly cold colour to the 
feet. 

We had three buffalo-skins, or, rather, two buffalo (bison) 
skins and one bear-skin. The last, being trimmed with 
scarlet cloth, had a particularly warm and comfortable ap- 
pearance. The largest skin was placed on the hind-seat, 
and thrown over the back of the sleigh, as a matter of 
course ; and, though this back was high enough to break 
off the wind from our heads and necks, the skin not only 
covered it, but it hung two or three feet down behind, as is 
becoming in a gentleman’s sleigh. The other buffalo was 
spread in the bottom of the sleigh, as a carpet for all four, 
leaving an apron to come in front upon Dirck’s and my lap, 
as a protection against the cold in that quarter. The bear- 
skin formed a cushion for us in front, and an apron for Mr. 
Worden and Jason, who sat behind. Our trunks had gone 
on the lumber sleighs, that is, mine and Dirck’s had thus 
been sent, while our two companions found room for theirs 
in the conveyance in which we went ourselves. 

It was March 1st, 1758, the morning we left Satanstoe, 
on this memorable excursion. The winter had proved as 
was common in our latitude, though there had been more 
snow along the coast than was usual. Salt air and snow do 
not agree well together; but I had driven in a sleigh over 


152 


SATANSTOE. 




the Neck, most of the month of February, though there 
were symptoms of a thaw, and of a southerly wind, the day 
we left home. My father observed this, and he advised me 
to take the road through the centre of the county, and get 
among the hills, as soon as possible. Not only was there 
always more snow in that part of the country, but it resisted 
the influence of a thaw much longer than that which had 
fallen near the sea or Sound. I got my mother’s last kiss, 
my father’s last shake of the hand, my grandfather’s bless- 
ing, stepped into the sleigh, took the reins from Dirck, and 
drove oiF. 

A party in a sleigh must be composed of a very sombre 
sort of persons, if it be not a merry one. In our case, 
everybody was disposed to good-humour; though Jason 
could not pass along the highway, in York Colony, without 
giving vent to his provincial, Connecticut hypercriticism. 
Everything was Dutch, according to his view of matters ; 
and when it failed of being Dutch, why, it was York-Colony. 
The doors were not in the right places ; the windows were 
too large, when they were not too small ; things had a cab- 
bage-look ; the people smelt of tobacco; and hasty-pudding 
was called “ suppaan.” But these were trifles; and being 
used to them, nobody paid much attention to what our puri- 
tanical neighbour saw fit to pour out, in the humility and 
meekness of his soul. Mr. Worden chuckled, and urged 
Jason on, in the hope of irritating Dirck; but Dirck smoked 
through it all, with an indifference that proved how much 
he really despised the critic. I was the only one who re- 
sented this supercilious ignorance; but even I was often 
more disposed to laugh than to be angry. 

The signs of a thaw increased, as we got a few miles 
from home; and by the time we reached White Plains, the 
“south wind” did not blow “softly,” but freshly, and the 
snow in the road became sloppy, and rills of water were 
seen running down the hill-sides, in a way that menaced 
destruction to the sleighing. On we drove, however, and 
deeper and deeper we got among the hills, until we found 
not only more snow, but fewer symptoms of immediately 
losing it. Our first day’s work carried us well into the 
manor of the Van Cortland ts, where we passed the night. 
Next morning the south wind was still blowing, sweeping 


S AT ANSTOE. 


153 


over the fields of snow, charged with the salt air of the 
ocean ; and bare spots began to show themselves on all the 
acclivities and hill-sides — an admonition for us to be stirring. 
We breakfasted in the Highlands, and in a wild and retired 
part of them, though in a part where snow and beaten roads 
were still to be found. We had escaped from the thaw, and 
no longer felt any uneasiness on the subject of reaching the 
end of our journey on runners. 

The second day brought us fairly through the mountains, 
out on the plains of Dutchess, permitting us to sup at Fish- 
kill. This was a thriving settlement, the people appearing 
to me to live in abundance, as certainly they did in peace 
and quiet. They made little of the war, and asked us many 
questions concerning the army, its commanders, its force, 
and its objects. They were a simple, and judging from 
appearances, an honest people, who troubled themselves very 
little with what was going on in the world. 

After quitting Fishkill we found a great change, not only 
in the country, but in the weather. The first was level, as 
a whole, and was much better settled than I could have 
believed possible so far in the interior. As for the weather, 
it was quite a different climate from that we had left below 
the highlands. Not only was the morning cold, cold as it 
had been a month earlier with us, but the snow still lay two 
or three feet in depth on a level, and the sleighing was as 
good as heart could wish. 

That afternoon we overtook Yaap and the brigade of 
lumber-sleighs. Everything had gone right, and after giving 
the fellow some fresh instructions, I passed him, proceeding 
on our route. This parting did not take place, however, 
until the following had been uttered between us: 

“ Well, Yaap.” I inquired, as a sort of close to the pre 
vious discourse, “ how do you like the upper counties'?” 

A loud negro laugh succeeded, and a repetition of the 
question was necessary to extort an answer. 

“ Lor’, Masser Corny, how you t’ink I know, when dere 
not’in but snow to be seen 1” 

“ There was plenty of snow in Westchester ; yet, I dare 
say you could give some opinion of our own county!” 

“ ’Cause I know him, sah ; inside and out, and all over, 
Masser Corny.” 


154 


S AT ANSTOE . 


“ Well ; but you can see the houses, and orchards, ana 
barns, and fences, and other things of that sort.” 

“’Em pretty much like our’n, Masser Corny; why you 
bother nigger with sich question ?” 

Here another burst of loud, hearty “yah — yah — yahs 
succeeded ; and Yaap had his laugh out before another word 
could be got out of him, when I put the question a third 
time. 

“ Well, den, Masser Corny, sin’ you ivill know, dis is my 
mind. Dis country is oncomparable wid our ole county 
sah. De houses seem mean, de barns look empty, de fences 
be low, and de niggers, ebbery one of ’em, look cold, sah — 
yes, sah — ’ey look berry cold !” 

As a “ cold negro” was a most pitiable object in negro 
eyes, I saw by this summary that Y r aap had commenced his 
travels in much of the same temper of superciliousness as 
Jason Newcome. It struck me as odd at the time ; but, 
since that day, I have ascertained that this feeling is a very 
general travelling companion for those who set out on their 
first journey. 

We passed our third night at a small hamlet called Rhine- 
beck, in a settlement in which many German names were 
to be found. Here we were travelling through the vast 
estates of the Livingstons, a name well-known in our colo- 
nial history. We breakfasted at Claverack, and passed 
through a place called Kinderhook — a village of Low Dutch 
origin, and of some antiquity. That night we succeeded in 
coming near Albany, by making a very hard day’s drive of 
it. There was no village at the place where we slept; but 
the house was a comfortable, and exceedingly neat Dutch 
tavern. After quitting Fish kill we had seen more or less of 
the river, until we passed Claverack, where we took our 
leave of it. It was covered with ice, and sleighs were 
moving about it, with great apparent security ; but we did 
not like to try it. Our whole party preferred a solid high- 
way, in which there was no danger of the bottom’s dropping 
out. 

As we were now about to enter Albany, the second larg- 
est town in the colony and one of the largest inland towns 
of the whole country, if such a word can properly be given 
to a place that lies on a navigable river, it was thought ne- 


SATANSTOE. 


155 


eessary to make some few arrangements, in order to do it 
decently. Instead of quitting the tavern at daylight, there- 
fore, as had been our practice previously, we remained 
until after breakfast, having recourse to our trunks in the 
mean time. Dirck, Jason and myself, had provided our- 
selves with fur caps for the journey, with ear-laps and other 
contrivances for keeping oneself warm. The cap of Dirck, 
and my own, were of very fine martens’ skins, and as they 
were round and high, and each was surmounted with a 
handsome tail, that fell down behind, they had both a smart 
and military air. I thought I had never seen Dirck look so 
nobly and well, as he did in his cap, and I got a few com- 
pliments on my own air in mine, though they were only 
from my mother, who, I do think, would feel disposed to 
praise me, even if I looked wretchedly. The cap of Jason 
was better suited to his purse, being lower, and of fox-skins, 
though it had a tail also. Mr. Worden had declined tra- 
velling in a cap, as unsuited to his holy office. Accordingly 
he wore his clerical beaver, which differed a little from the 
ordinary cocked-hats, that we all wore as a matter of course, 
though not so much so as to be very striking. 

All of us had over-coats well trimmed with furs, mine 
and Dirck’s being really handsome, with trimmings of mar- 
ten, while those of our companion were less showy and 
expensive. On a consultation, Dirck and I decided that it 
was better taste to enter the town in traveller’s dresses, than 
to enter it in any other, and we merely smartened up a lit- 
tle, in order to appear as gentlemen. The case was very 
different with Jason. According to his idea a man should 
wear his best clothes on a journey, and I was surprised to 
see him appear at breakfast, in black breeches, striped 
woollen stockings, large plated buckles in his shoes, and a 
coat that I well knew he religiously reserved for high-days 
and holidays. This coat was of a light pea-green colour, 
and but little adapted to the season ; but Jason had not much 
notion of the fitness of things, in general, in matters of taste. 
Dirck and myself wore our ordinary snuff-coloured coats, 
under our furs ; but Jason threw aside all the overcoats, 
when we came near Albany, in order to enter the place in 
his best. Fortunately for him, the day was mild, and there 
was a bright sun to send its warm rays through the pea- 


156 


S AT ANSTOE . 


green covering, to keep his blood from chilling. As for 
Mr. Worden, he wore a cloak of black cloth, laying aside 
all the furs, but a tippet and muff, both of which he used 
habitually in cold weather. 

In this* guise, then, we left the tavern, about nine in the 
morning, expecting to reach the banks of the river about 
ten. Nor were we disappointed ; the roads being excellent, 
a light fall of snow having occurred in the night, to freshen 
the track. It was an interesting moment to us all, when 
the spires and roofs of that ancient town, Albany, first ap- 
peared in view ! We had journeyed from near the southern 
boundary of the colony, to a place that stood at no great dis- 
tance from its frontier settlements on the north. The town itself 
formed a pleasing object, as we approached it, on the opposite 
side of the Hudson. There it lay, stretching along the low 
land on the margin of the stream, and on its western bank, 
sheltered by high hills, up the side of which, the principal 
street extended, for the distance of fully a quarter of a mile. 
Near the head of this street stood the fort, and we saw a 
brigade paraded in the open ground near it, wheeling and 
marching about. The spires of two churches were visible, 
one, the oldest, being seated on the low land, in the heart 
of the place, and the other on the height at no great dis- 
tance from the fort; or about half-way up the acclivity, 
which forms the barrier to the inner country, on that side 
of the river. Both these buildings were of stone, of course, 
shingle tenements being of very rare occurrence in the 
colony of New York, though common enough further east.* 

* In nothing was the difference of character between the people of 
New England, and those of the middle colonies, more apparent than 
in the nature of the dwellings. In New York, for instance, men worth 
thousands dwelt in humble, low, (usually one story) dwellings of stone, 
having window-shutters, frequently within as well as without, and the 
other appliances of comfort; whereas the farmer farther east, was sel- 
dom satisfied, though his means were limited, unless he lived in a 
house as good as his neighbour’s ; and the strife dotted the whole of 
their colonies with wooden buildings, of great pretension for the age, 
that rarely had even exterior shutters, and which frequently stood for 
generations unfinished. The difference was not of Dutch origin, for 
it was just as apparent in New Jersey or Pennsylvania as in New 
York, and I think it may be attributed to a very obvious consequence 
of a general equality of condition, a state of society in which no one is 


S AT ANSTOE. 


157 


I will own that not one of our party liked the idea of 
crossing the Hudson, in a loaded sleigh, on the ice, and that 
in the month of March. There were no streams about us 
to be crossed in this mode, nor was the cold exactly suffi- 
cient to render such a transit safe, and we felt as the inex- 
perienced would be apt to feel in circumstances so unplea- 
sant. I must do Jason the credit to admit that he showed 
more plain, practical, good sense than any of us, determi- 
ning our course in the end by his view of the matter. As 
for Mr. Worden, however, nothing could induce him to 
venture on the ice in a sleigh, or near a sleigh, though Jason 
remonstrated in the following terms — 

“Now, look here, Rev. Mr. Worden” — Jason seldom 
omitted anybody’s title — “ you ’ve only to turn your eyes 
on the river to see it is doited with sleighs, far and near. 
There are highways north and south, and if that be the 
place, where the crossing is at the town, it is more like a 
thoroughfare than a spot that is risky. In my judgment, 
these people who live hereabouts ought to know whether 
there is any danger or not.” 

Obvious as was this truth, ‘ Rev. Mr. Worden’ made us 
stop on terra firma, and permit him to quit the sleigh, that 
he might cross the river on foot. Jason ventured a hint or 
two about faith and its virtues, as he stripped himself to the 
pea-green, in order to enter the town in proper guise, 
throwing aside everything that concealed his finery. As 
for Dirck and myself, we kept our seats manfully, and trot- 
ted on the river at the point where we saw sleighs and foot- 
passengers going and coming in some numbers. The Rev. 
Mr. W 7 orden, however, was not content to take the beaten 
path, for he knew there was no more security in being out 
on the ice, near a sleigh, than there was in being in it, so 
he diverged from the road, which crossed at the ferry, 
striking diagonally atwhart the river towards the wharves 
of the place. 

It seemed to me to be a sort of a holiday among the 
young and idle, one sleigh passing us after another, filled 


content to wear even the semblance of poverty, but those who cannot 
by any means prevent it ; but, in which all strive to get as high as pos- 
sible, in appearances at least. — Editoh. 

14 


S AT ANSTOE. 


158 

with young men and maidens, all sparkling with the ex 
citement of the moment, and gay with youth and spirits. 
We passed no less than four of these sleighs on the river, 
the jingling of the bells, the quick movement, the laughter 
and gaiety, and the animation of the whole scene, far ex- 
ceeding anything of the sort I had ever before witnessed. 
We were nearly across the river, when a sleigh more hand- 
somely equipped than any we had yet seen, dashed down 
the bank, and came whirling past us like a comet. It was 
full of ladies, with the exception of one gentleman, who 
stood erect in front, driving. I recognised Bulstrode, in furs 
like all of us, capped and tailed , , if not plumed, while 
among the half-dozen pairs of brilliant eyes that were 
turned with their owner’s smiling faces on us, I saw one 
which never could be forgotten by me, that belonged to 
Anneke Mordaunt. I question if we were recognised, for 
the passage was like that of a meteor ; but I could not avoid 
turning to gaze after the gay party. This change of 
position enabled me to be a witness of a very amusing con- 
sequence of Mr. Worden’s experiment. A sleigh was coming 
in our direction, and the party in it seeing one who was 
known for a clergyman, walking on the ice, turned aside 
and approached him on a gallop, in order to offer the 
courtesy of a seat to a man of his sacred profession. Our 
divine heard the bells, and fearful of having a sleio-h so 
near him, he commenced a downright flight, pursued by the 
people in the sleigh, as fast as their horses could follow. 
Everybody on the ice pulled up to gaze in wonder at this 
strange spectacle, until the whole party reached the shore, 
the Rev. Mr. Worden pretty well blown, as the reader may 
suppose. 


* 


SATANSTOE. 


159 


CHAPTER XI. 

Bid physicians talk our veins to temper, 

And with an argument new-set a pulse, 

Then think, my lord, of reasoning unto love. 

Youxg. 

As the road from the ferry into the town ran along the 
bank of the river, we reached the point where the Rev. Mr. 
Worden had landed precisely at the same instant with his 
pursuers, who had been obliged to make a little circuit, in 
order to get otf the ice. I do not know which party re- 
garded the other in the greatest astonishment, — the hunted, 
or the hunters. The sleigh had in it two fine-looking 
young fellows, that spoke English with a slight Dutch 
accent, and three young women, whose bright coal-black 
eyes betokened surprise a little mitigated by a desire to 
laugh. Seeing that we were all strangers, I suppose, and 
that we claimed the runaway as belonging to our party, 
one of the young men raised his cap very respectfully, and 
opened the discourse by asking in a very civil tone — 

“ What ails the reverent gentleman, to make him run so 
fast 

“ Run !” exclaimed Mr. Worden, whose lungs had been 
playing like a blacksmith’s bellows — “Run! and who 
would not run to save himself from being drowned?” 

“ Drowned !” repeated the young Dutchman, looking 
round at the river, as if to ascertain whether the ice were 
actually moving — “ why does the Dominie suppose there 
was any danger of that ?” 

As Mr. Worden's bellows were still hard at work, I ex- 
plained to the young Albanians that we were strangers just 
arrived from the vicinity of New York; that we were un- 
accustomed to frozen rivers, and had never crossed one on 
the ice before; that our reverend companion had chosen to 
Walk at a distance from the road, in order to be in less 
danger should any team break in, and that he had naturally 
run to avoid th eir sleigh when he saw it approaching. The 
Albanians heard this account in respectful silence, though I 


SATANSTOE. 


160 

could see the two young men casting sly glances at each 
other, and that even the ladies had some little difficulty in 
altogether suppressing their smiles. When it was through, 
the "oldest of the Dutchmen — a line, dare-devil, roystering- 
looking fellow of four or five-and-twenty, whose dress and 
mien, however, denoted a person of the upper class, — begged 
a thousand pardons for his mistake, quitting his sleigh and 
insisting on having the honours of shaking hands with the 
whole of us. His name was ‘ Ten Eyck,’ he said ;’ ‘ Guert 
Ten Eyck,’ and he asked permission, as we were strangers, 
of doing the honour of Albany to us. Everybody in the 
place knew him, which, as we afterwards ascertained, was 
true enough, for he had just as much reputation for fun and 
frolic as at all comported with respectability; keeping along, 
as it were, on the very verge of the pale of reputable peo- 
ple, without being thrown entirely out of it. The young 
females with him were a shade below his own natural posi- 
tion in society, tolerating his frolics on account of this cir- 
cumstance, aided as it was by a singularly manly face and 
person, a hearty and ready laugh, a full purse, and possibly 
by the secret hope of being the happy individual who was 
designed by Providence to convert ‘ a reformed rake into the 
best of husbands.’ In a word, he was always welcome with 
them, when those a little above them felt more disposed to 
frown. 

Of course, all this was unknown to us at the time, and 
we accepted Guert Ten Eyck’s proffiers of civility in the 
spirit in which they were offered. He inquired at what 
tavern we intended to stop, and promised an early call. 
Then, shaking us all round by the hand again with great 
cordiality, he took his leave. His companion doffed a very 
dashing, high, wolf-skin cap to us, and the black-eyed trio, 
on the hind seat, smiled graciously, and away they drove at 
a furious rate, startling all the echoes of Albany with their 
bells. By this time Mr. Worden was seated, and we fol- 
lowed more moderately, our team having none of the Dutch 
courage of a pair of horses fresh from the stable. Such 
were the circumstances under which we made our entrance 
into the ancient city of Albany. We were all in hopes, the 
little affair of the chase would soon be forgotten, for no one 
likes to be associated with a ridiculous circumstance , but 


S AT ANSTOE. 


161 


we counted without our host. Guert Ten Eyck was not of 
a temperament to let such an affair sleep, but, as I after- 
wards ascertained, he told it with the laughing embellish- 
ments that belonged to his reckless character, until, in turn, 
the Rev. Mr. Worden came to be known, throughout all that 
region, by the nickname of the “Loping Dominie.” 

The reader may be assured our eyes were about us, as 
we drove through the streets of the second town in the 
colony. We were not unaccustomed to houses constructed 
in the Dutch style, in New York, though the English mode 
ot building had been most in vogue there, for half a century. 
It was not so with Albany, which remained, essentially, a 
Dutch town, in 1758. We heard little beside Dutch, as we 
passed along. The women scolded their children in Low 
Dutch, a use, by the way, for which the language appears 
singularly well adapted; the negroes sang Dutch songs; 
the men called to each other in Dutch, and Dutch rang in 
our ears, as we walked our horses through the streets, to- 
wards the tavern. There were many soldiers about, and 
other proofs of the presence of a considerable military force 
were not wanting; still, the place struck me as very pro- 
vincial and peculiar, after New York. Nearly all the 
houses were built with their gables to the streets, and each 
had heavy wooden Dutch stoops, with seats, at its door. A 
few had small court-yards in front, and, here and there, was 
a building of somewhat more pretension than usual. I do 
not think, however, there were fifty houses in the place, 
that were built with their gables off the line of the streets.* 

We were no sooner housed, than Dirck and I sallied forth 
to look at the place. Here we were, in one of the oldest 
towns of America; a place that could boast' of much more 

* The population of Albany could not have reached 4000 in 1758. 
Its Dutch character remained down to the close of this century, with 
gradual changes. The writer can remember when quite as much 
Dutch as English was heard in the streets of Albany, though it has 
now nearly disappeared. The present population must be near 
40,000. 

Mr. Littlcpagc’s description was doubtless correct, at the time ho 
wrote ; but Albany would now be considered a first-class country 
town, in Europe. It has much better claims to compare with the 
towns of the old world, in this character, than New York has to com- 
pare with their capitals. — Editor. 

14 * 


than a century’s existence, and it was natural to feel curious 
to look about one. Our inn was in the principal street,— 
that which led up the hill towards the fort. This street was 
a wide avenue, that quite put Broadway out of countenance, 
so far as mere width was concerned. The streets that led 
out of it, however, were principally little better than lanes, 
as if the space that had been given to two or three of the 
main streets had been taken off of the remainder. The High 
Street, as we English would call it, was occupied by sleds 
filled with wood for sale ; sleds loaded with geese, turkeys, 
lame and wild, and poultry of all sorts ; sleds with venison, 
still in the skin, piled up in heaps, &c., — all these eatables 
being collected, in unusual quantities as we were told, to 
meet the extraordinary demand created by the different 
military messes. Deer were no strangers to us ; for Long 
Island was full of all sorts of game, as were the upper coun- 
ties of New Jersey. Even Westchester, old and well 
settled as it had become, was not yet altogether clear of 
deer, and nothing was easier than to knock over a buck in 
the highlands. Nevertheless, I had never seen venison, 
wild turkeys and sturgeons, in such quantities as they were 
to be seen that day in the principal street of Albany. 

The crowd collected in this street, the sleighs that were 
whirling past, filled with young men and maidens, the in- 
cessant jingling of bells, the spluttering and jawing in Low 
Dutch, the hearty English oaths of serjeants and sutlers’- 
men and cooks of messes, the loud laughs of the blacks, 
and the beauty of the cold clear day, altogether produced 
some such effect on me, as I had experienced when I went 
to the theatre. Not the least striking picture of the scene, 
was Jason, in the middle of the street, gaping about him, in 
the cocked-hat, the pea-green coat, and the striped woollen 
stockings. 

Dirck and myself naturally examined the churches. 
These were two, as has been said already, — one for the 
Dutch, and the other for the English. The first was the 
oldest. It stood at the point where the two principal streets 
crossed each other, and in the centre of the street, leaving 
sufficient passages all round it. The building was square, 
with a high pointed roof, having a belfry and weathercock 
on its apex ; windows, with diamond panes and painted glass, 


SATANSTOE. 163 

and a porch that was well suited both to the climate and to 
appearances.* 

We were examining this structure, when Guert Ten Eyck 
accosted us, in his frank, ofF-hand way — 

“Your servant, Mr. Littlepage ; your servant, Mr. Pol- 
lock,” he cried, again shaking each cordially by the hand. 
“ I was on the way to the tavern to look you up, when I 
accidentally saw you here. A few gentlemen of my ac- 
quaintance, who are in the habit of supping together in the 
winter time, meet for the last jollification of the season to- 
night, and they have all express’t a wish to have the plea- 
sure of your company. I hope you will allow me to say you 
will come? We meet at nine, sup at ten, and break up 
at twelve, quite regularly, in a very sedate and prudent 
manner.” 

There was something so frank and cordial, so simple and 
straight-forward in this invitation, that we did not know how 
to decline it. We both knew that the name of Ten Eyck 
was respectable in the colony ; our new acquaintance was 
well dressed, he seemed to be in good company when we 
first met him, his sleigh and horses had been actually of a 
more dashing stamp than usual, and his own attire had all 
the peculiarities of a gentleman’s, with the addition of some- 
thing even more decided and knowing than was common. 
It is true, the style of these peculiarities was not exactly 
such as I had seen in the air, manners and personal decora- 
tions of those of Billings and Harris; but they were none 
the less striking, and none the less attractive ; the two Eng- 
lishmen being “ macaronis,” from London, and Ten Eyck 
being a “buck” of Albany. 

“ I thank you, very heartily, Mr. Ten Eyck,” I an- 
swered, “ both for myself and for my friend” — 

“ And will let me come for you at half-past eight, to show 
you the way ?” 

“ Why, yes, sir ; I was about to say as much, if it be 
not giving you too much trouole.” 

* There were two churches, of this character, built on this spot. 
The second, much larger than the first, but of the same form, was 
built round the other, in which service was held to the last, when it 
\vaa literally thrown out of the windows of its successor. The last 
edifice disappeared about forty years since. — Editor. 


164 


SATANSTOE. 


“ Do not speak of tr-r-ouple” — this last word will give a 
very good notion of Guert’s accent, which I cannot stop to 
imitate at all times in writing — “and do not say your 
frt'nt, but your fre'ntz .” 

“ As to the two that are not here, I cannot positively an- 
swer ; yonder, however, is one that can speak for himself.” 

“ I see him, Mr. Littlepage, and will answer for him , on 
my own account. Depent on it, he will come. But the 
Dominie — he has a hearty look, and can help eat a turkey 
and swallow a glass of goot Madeira — I think I can rely 
on. A man cannot take all that active exercise without 
food.” 

“ Mr. Worden is a very companionable man, and is ex- 
cellent company at a supper-table. I will communicate 
your invitation, and hope to be able to prevail on him to be 
of the party.” 

“ T’at is enough, sir,” returned Ten Eyck, or Guert, as I 
shall henceforth call him, in general ; “ vere dere ist a vill, 
dere ist a vay.” Guert frequently broke out in such speci- 
mens of broken English, while at other times he would 
speak almost as well as any of us. “ So Got pless you 
my dear Mr. Littlepage, and make us lasting friends. I 
like your countenance, and my eye never deceives me in 
these matters.” 

Here, Guert shook us both by the hand again, most cor- 
dially, and left us. Dirck and I next strolled up the hill, 
going as high as the English church, which stood also in 
the centre of the principal street, an imposing and massive 
edifice in stone. With the exception of Mother Trinity in 
New York, this was the largest, and altogether the most 
important edifice devoted to the worship of my own church 
I had ever seen. In Westchester, there were several of 
Queen Anne’s churches, but none on a scale to compare 
with this. Our small edifices were usually without gal- 
leries, steeples, towers, or bells ; while St. Peter’s, Albany, 
if not actually St. Peter’s, Rome, was a building of which 
a man might be proud. A little to our surprise, we 
found the Rev. Mr. Worden and Mr. Jason Newcome had 
met at the door of this edifice, having sent a boy to the 
sexton in quest of the key. In a minute or two, the urchin 
returned, bringing not only the key of the church, but the 


SATANSTOE. 165 

excuses of the sexton for not coming himself. The door 
was opened, and we went in. 

I have always admired the decorous and spiritual manner 
in which the Rev. Mr. Worden entered a building that had 
been consecrated to the services of the Deity. I know not 
how to describe it ; but it proved how completely he had 
been drilled in the decencies of his profession. Off came 
his hat, of course ; and his manner, however facetious and 
easy it may have been the moment before, changed on the 
instant to gravity and decorum. Not so with Jason. He 
entered St. Peter’s, Albany, with exactly the same indiffer- 
ent and cynical air with which he had seemed to regard 
everything but money, since he entered “ York Colony.” 
Usually, he wore his cocked-hat on the back of his head, 
thereby lending himself a lolloping, negligent, and, at the 
same time, defying air ; but 1 observed that, as we all un- 
covered, he brought his own beaver up over his eye-brows, 
in a species of military bravado. To uncover to a church, 
in his view of the matter, was a sort of idolatry; there 
might be images about, for anything he knew; “and a man 
could never be enough on his guard ag’in being carried 
away by such evil deceptions,” as he had once before an- 
swered to a remonstrance of mine, for wearing his hat in 
our own parish church. 

I found the interior of St. Peter’s quite as imposing as its 
exterior. Three of the pews were canopied, having coats 
of arms on their canopies. These, the boy told us, belonged 
to the Van Rensselaer and Schuyler families. All these 
were covered with black cloth, in mourning for some death 
in those ancient families, which were closely allied. I was 
very much struck with the dignified air that these patrician 
seats gave the house of God.* There were also several 
hatchments suspended against the walls; some being placed 
there in commemoration of officers of rank, from home, who 

* I cannot recollect one of these canopied pews that is now stand- 
ing, in this part of the Union. The last, of my knowledge, were in 
St. Mark’s, New York, and, I believe, belonged to the Stay vesants , 
the patron family of that church. They were taken down when 
that building was repaired, a few years since. This is one of the most 
innocent of all our innovations of this character. Distinctions in the 
House of God are opposed to the very spirit of the Christian religion ; 
and it were far more fitting that pews should be altogether done away 


166 


SATANSTOE. 


had died in the king’s service in the colony ; and others to 
mark the deaths of some of the more distinguished of our 
own people. 

Mr. Worden expressed himself well pleased with appear- 
ances of things, in and about this building; though Jason 
regarded all with ill-concealed disgust. 

“ What is the meaning of them pews with tops to them, 
Corny?” the pedagogue whispered me, afraid to encounter 
the parson’s remarks, by his own criticism. 

“ They are the pews of families of distinction in this 
place, Mr. Newcome; and the canopies, or tops, as you call 
them, are honourable signs of their owners’ conditions.” 

“ Do you think their owners will sit under such coverings 
in paradise, Corny ?” continued Jason, with a sneer. 

“ It is impossible for me to say, sir ; it is probable, how- 
ever, the just will not require any such mark to distinguish 
them from the unjust.” 

“ Let me see,” said Jason, looking round and affecting to 
count; “there are just three — Bishop, Priest, and Deacon, 
I suppose. Waal, there’s a seat for each, and they can be 
comfortable here , whatever may turn up hereafter .” 

I turned away, unwilling to dispute the point, for I knew 
it was as hopeless to expect that a Danbury man would feel 
like a New Yorker, on such a subject, as it was to expect 
that a New Yorker could be made to adopt Danbury senti- 
ments. As for the argument , however, I have heard others 
of pretty much the same calibre often urged against the three 
orders of the ministry. 

On quitting St. Peter’s, I communicated the invitation of 
Guert Ten Eyck to Mr. Worden, and urged him to be of the 
party. I could see that the notion of a pleasant supper was 
anything but unpleasant to the missionary. Still he had 
his scruples, inasmuch as he had not yet seen his reverend 

with, the true mode of assembling under the sacred roof, than that 
men should be classed even at the foot of the altar. 

It may be questioned if a hatchment is now hung up, either on the 
dwelling, or in a church, in any part of America. They were to be 
seen, however, in the early part of the present century. Whenever 
any such traces of ancient usages are met with among us, by the 
traveller from the old world, he is apt to mistake them for the shadows 
“that coming events cast before,” instead of those of the past. — 
Editor. 


SATANSTOE. 


167 

brother who had the charge of St. Peter’s, did not know 
exactly the temper of his mind, and was particularly de- 
sirous of officiating for him, in the presence of the principal 
personages of the place, on the approaching Sunday. He 
had written a note to the chaplain ; for the person who had 
the cure of the Episcopalians held that rank in the army, 
St. Peter’s being as much of an official chapel as a parish 
church ; and he must have an interview with that individual 
before he could decide. Fortunately, as we descended the 
street, towards our inn, we saw the very person in question. 
The marks of the common office that these two divines bdre 
about their persons in their dress, sufficed to make them 
known to each other at a glance. In five minutes, they had 
shaken hands, heard each man’s account of himself, had 
given and accepted the invitation to preach, and were other- 
wise on free and easy terms. Mr. Worden was to dine in 
the fort, with the chaplain. We then walked forward to- 
wards the tavern. 

“ By the way, Mr. ,” said Mr. Worden, in a paren- 

thesis of the discourse, “ the family of Ten Eyck is quite 
respectable, here in Albany.” 

“Very much so, sir — a family that is held in much 
esteem. I shall count on your assisting me, morning and 
evening, my dear Mr. Worden.” 

It is surprising how the clergy do depend on each other 
for ‘ assistance !’ 

“ Make your arrangements accordingly, my good brother 
— I am quite fresh, and have brought a good stock of ser- 
mons ; not knowing how much might remain to be done in 
the army. Corny,” in a half-whisper, “ you can let ouv 
new friends know that I will sup with them ; and, harkee — 
just drop a hint to them, that I am none of your puritans.” 

Here, then, we found everything in a very fair way to 
bring us all out in society, within the first two hours of our 
arrival. Mr. Worden was engaged to preach the next day 
but one ,* and he was engaged to supper that same day. All 
looked promising, and I hurried on in order to ascertain if 
Guert Ten Eyck had made his promised call. As before, 
he was met in the street, and the acceptance of the Domi- 
nie was duly communicated. Guert seemed highly pleased 


168 


SATAN STOE. 


at this success ; and he left me, promising to be punctual to 
his hour. In the mean time, we had to dine. 

The dinner proved a good one; and, as Mr. Worden 
remarked, it was quite lucky that the principal dish was 
venison, a meat that was so easy of digestion, as to promise 
no great obstacle to the accommodation of the supper. He 
should dine on venison, therefore ; and he advised all three 
of us to follow his example. But, certain Dutch dishes at- 
tracted the eye and taste of Dirck ; while Jason had alighted 
on a hash, of some sort or other, that he did not quit until 
he had effectually disposed of it. As for myself, I confess, 
the venison was so much to my taste, that I stuck by the 
parson. We had our wine, too, and left the table early, in 
order not to interfere with the business of the night. 

After dinner, it was proposed to walk out in a body, to 
make a further examination of the place, and to see if we 
could not fall in with an army contractor, who might be dis- 
posed to relieve Dirck and myself of some portion of our 
charge. Luck again threw us in the way of Guert Ten 
Eyck, who seemed to live in the public street. In the 
course of a brief conversation that took place, as a passing 
compliment, I happened to mention a wish to ascertain 
where one might dispose of a few horses, and of two or three 
sleigh-loads of flour, pork, &c., &c. 

“ My dear Mr. Littlepage,” said Guert, with a frank smile 
and a friendly shake of the hand, “ I am delighted that you 
have mentioned these matters to me ; I can take you to the 
very man you wish to see ; a heavy army-contractor, who 
i^buying up everything of the sort he can lay his hands 

Of course, I was as much delighted as Guert could very 
well be, and left my party to proceed at once to the con- 
tractor’s office, with the greatest alacrity ; Dirck accom- 
panying me. As we went along, our new friend advised us 
/ not to be very backward in the way of price, since the king 
paid, in the long run. 

“ Rich dealers ought to pay well,” he added ; “ and, I 
can tell you, as a useful thing to know, that orders came on, 
no later than yesterday, to buy up everything of the sort 
that offered. Put sleigh and harness, at once, all in a heap, 
on the king’s servants.” 


S AT ANSTOE . 


169 

I thought the idea not a bad one, and promised to profit 
by it. Guert was as good as his word, and I was properly 
introduced to the contractor. My business was no sooner 
mentioned, than I was desired to send a messenger round to 
the stables, in order that my conveyance, team, &c., might 
make their appearance. As for the articles that were still 
on the road, I had very little trouble. The contractor knew 
my father, and he no sooner heard that Mr. Littlepage, of 
Satanstoe, was the owner of the provisions, than he pur- 
chased the whole on the guaranty of his name. For the 
pork I was to receive two half-joes the barrel, and for the 
flour one. This was a good sale. The horses would be 
taken, if serviceable, as the contractor did not question, as 
would the lumber-sleighs, though the prices could not be set 
until the different animals and objects were seen and ex- 
amined. 

It is amazing what war will do for commerce, as well as 
what it does against it ! The demand for everything that 
the judgment of my father had anticipated, was so great, 
that the contractor told me very frankly the sleighs would 
not be unloaded in Albany at all, but would be sent on 
north, on the line of the expected route of the army, so as 
to anticipate the disappearance of the snow and the break- 
ing up of the roads. 

“ You shall be paid liberally for your teams, harness and 
sleighs,” he continued, “ though no sum can be named until 
I see them. These are not times when operations are to 
be retarded on account of a few joes, more or less, for the 
King’s service must go on. I very well know that Major 
Littlepage and Col. Follock both understand what they are 
about, and have sent us the right sort of things. The 
horses are very likely a little old, but are good for one 
campaign ; better than if younger, perhaps, and were they 
colts we could get no more than that out of them. These 
movements in the woods destroy man and beast, and cost 
mints of money. Ah ! There comes your team.” 

Sure enough, the sleigh drove round from the tavern, and 
we all went out to look at the horses, &c. Guert now be- 
came an important person. On the subject of horses he 
was accounted an oracle, and he talked, moved, and acted 
like one in all respects. The first thing he did was to step 
15 

Ji * 


170 


SATAN STOE. 


up to the animal’s head, and to look into the mouth of each 
in succession. The knowing way in which this was done, 
the coolness of the interference, and the fine, manly form 
of the intruder, would have given him at once a certain 
importance and a connection with what was going on, had 
not his character for judgment in horse-flesh been well es- 
tablished, far and near, in that quarter of the country. 

“ Upon my word, wonderfully good mouths !” exclaimed 
Guert, when through. “ You must have your grain ground, 
Mr. Littlepage, or the teeth never could have stood it so 
well !” 

“ What age do you call the animals, Guert V’ demanded 
the contractor. 

“ That is not so easily told, sir. I admit that they are 
aged horses ; but they may be eight, or nine, or even ten, 
as for what can be told by their teeth. By the looks of 
their limbs, I should think they might be nine coming 
grass.” 

“ The near-horse is eleven,” I said, “ and the off-horse 
is supposed to be ” 

“ Poh ! poh ! Littlepage,” interrupted Guert, making signs 
to me to be quiet — “ you may thinlc the off-horse ten, but 
I should place him at about nine. His teeth are excellent, 
and there is not even a wind-gall on his legs. There is a 
cross of the Flemish in that beast.” 

“ Well, and what do you say the pair is worth, Master 
Guert,” demanded the contractor, who seemed to have a 
certain confidence in his friend’s judgment, notwithstanding 
the recklessness and freedom of his manner. “ Twelve 
half-joes for them both ?” 

“ That will never do, Mr. Contractor,” answered Guert, 
shaking his head. “ In times like these, such stout animals, 
and beasts too in such heart and condition, ought to bring 
fifteen.” 

“ Fifteen let it be then, if Mr. Littlepage assents. Now 
for the sleigh, and harness, and skins. I suppose Mr. Little- 
page will part with the skins too, as he can have no use for 
them without the sleigh ?” 

“ Have you , Mr. Contractor ?” asked Guert, a little 
abruptly. “ That bear-skin fills my eye beautifully, and if 
Mr. Littlepage will take a guinea for it, here is his money.” 


s ATANSTOE. 


171 


As this was a fair price, it was accepted, though I pressed 
the skin on Guert as a gift, in remembrance of our accidental 
acquaintance. This offer, however, he respectfully, but 
firmly resisted. And here I will take occasion to say, lest 
the reader be misled by what is met with in works of fiction, 
„ and other light and vain productions, that in all my dealings, 
and future connection with Guert, I found him strictly 
honourable in money matters. It is true, I would not have 
purchased a horse on his recommendation, if he owned the 
beast ; but we all know how the best men yield in their 
morals when they come to deal in horses. I should scarcely 
have expected Mr. Worden to be orthodox, in making such 
bargains. But, on all other subjects connected with money, 
Guert Ten Eyck was one of the honestest fellows I ever dealt 
with. 

The contractor took the sleigh, harness, and skins, at 
seven more half-joes ; making twenty-three for the whole 
outfit. This was certainly receiving two half-joes more 
than my father had expected ; and I owed the gain of six- 
teen dollars to Guert’s friendly and bold interference. As 
soon as the prices were settled, the money was paid me in 
good Spanish gold ; and I handed over to Dirck the portion 
that properly fell to his father’s share. As it was under- 
stood that the remaining horses, sleighs, harness, provisions, 
&c., were to be taken at an appraisal, the instant they 
arrived, this hour’s work relieved my friend and myself 
from any further trouble on the subject of the property en- 
trusted to our care. And a relief it was to be so well rid of 
a responsibility that was as new as it was heavy to each 
of us. 

The reader will get some idea of the pressure of affairs, 
and how necessary it was felt to be on the alert in the month 
of March — a time of the year when twenty-four hours 
might bring about a change in the season — by the circum- 
stance that the contractor sent his new purchase to be loaded 
up from the door of his office, with orders to proceed on 
north, with supplies for a depdt that he was making as near 
to Lake George as was deemed prudent ; the French being 
in force at Ticonderoga and Crown Point, two posts at the 
head of Champlain ; a distance considerably less than a 
hundred miles from Albany. Whatever was forwarded as 


*3 


172 


S ATANSTOE. 

t 

far as Lake George while the snow lasted, could then be 
sent on with the army, in the contemplated operations of the 
approaching summer, by means of the two lakes, and their 
northern outlets. ^ 

“Well, Mr. Littlepage,” cried Guert, heartily; “ that ^ ' 
affair is well disposed of. You got goot prices, and I hope 
the King has got goot horses. They are a little venerable,' 
perhaps ; but what of that ? The army would knock up / 
the best and youngest beast in the colony, in one campaign 
in the woots ; and it can do no more with the oldest and 
worst. Shall we walk rount into the main street, gentle- 
men 1 This is about the hour when the young ladies are 
apt to start for their afternoon sleighing.” 

“ I suppose the ladies of Albany are remarkable for their 
beauty, Mr. Ten Eyck,” I rejoined, wishing to say some- 
thing agreeable to a man who seemed so desirous of serving 
me. “ The specimens I saw in crossing the river this 
morning, would induce a stranger to think so.” 

“ Sir,” replied Guert, walking towards the great avenue 
of the town, “ we are content with our ladies, in general, 
for they are charming, warm-hearted and amiable ; but 
there has been an arrival among us this winter, from your 
part of the colony, that has almost melted the ice on the 
Hudson !” 

My heart beat quicker, for I could only think of one be- 
ing of her sex, as likely to produce such a sensation. Still, 

I could not abstain from making a direct inquiry on the 
subject. 

“ From our part of the colony, Mr. Ten Eyck ! — You 
mean from New York, probably ?” 

“ Yes, sir, as a matter of course. There are several 
beautiful English women who have come up with the army ; 
but no colonel, major, or captain, has brought such para- 
gons with him, as Herman Mordaunt, a gentleman who 
may be known to you by name V 1 

“ Personally too, sir. Herman Mordaunt is even a kins- 
man of Dirck Follock, my friend here.” 

“ Then is Mr. Follock to be envied, since he can cali 
cousin with so charming a young lady as Anneke Mor- 
daunt.” 


SATANSTOE. 173 

“True sir, most true!” I interrupted, eagerly; “Anne 
Mordaunt passes for the sweetest girl in York !” 

“ I do not know that I should go quite as far as that, Mr. 
Littlepage,” returned Guert, moderating his warmth, in a 
manner that a little surprised me, though his handsome face 
still glowed with honest, natural admiration ; “ since there 
is a Miss Mary Wallace in her company, that is quite as 
much thought of, here in Albany, as her friend, Miss Mor- 
daunt.” 

Mary Wallace! The idea of comparing the silent, 
thoughtfu!, excellent though she were, Mary Wallace, with 
Anneke could never have crossed my mind. Still, Mary 
Wallace certainly was a very charming girl. She was 
even handsome ; had a placid, saint-like character of coun- 
tenance that had often struck me, singular beauty and 
development of form, and, in any other company than that 
of Anneke’s, might well have attracted the first attention of 
the most fastidious beholder. 

And Guert Ten Eyck admired, — perhaps loved, Mary 
Wallace ! Here, then, was fresh evidence how much we 
are all inclined to love our opposites ; to form close friend- 
ships with those who resemble us least, principles excepted, 
for virtue can never cling to vice, and how much more in- 
terest novelty possesses in the human breast, than the 
repetition of things to which we are accustomed. No two 
beings could be less alike than Mary Wallace and Guert 
Ten Eyck ; yet the last admired the first. 

“ Miss Wallace is a very charming young lady, Mr. 
Ten Eyck,” I rejoined, as soon as wonder would allow me 
to answer, “ and I am not surprised you speak of her in 
terms of so much admiration.” 

Guert stopped short in the street, looked me full in the 
face with an expression of truth that could not well be 
feigned, squeezed my hand fervently, and rejoined with a 
strange frankness, that I could not have imitated, to bo 
master of all I saw — 

“Admiration, Mr. Littlepage, is not a wort strong 
enough for what I feel for Mary ! I would marry her in 
the next hour, and love and cherish her for all the rest of 
my life. I worship Aer, and love the earth she treads on.” 
“ And you have told her this, Mr. Ten Eyck ?” 

15 * 


174 


S AT ANSTOE . 


“ Fifty times, sir. She has now been two months in Al- 
bany, and my love was secured within the first week. I 
offered myself too soon, I fear ; for Mary is a prutent, sen- 
sible young woman, and girls of that character are apt to 
distrust the youth who is too quick in his advances. They 
like to be served, sir, for seven years and seven years, as 
Joseph served for Potiphar.” 

“ You mean, most likely, Mr. Ten Eyck, as Jacob served 
for Rachel.” 

“ Well, sir, it may be as you say, dough I t’ink that in 
our Dutch Bibles, it stands as Joseph served for Potiphar — 
but you know what I mean, Mr. Littlepage. If you wish to 
see the ladies, and will come with me, I will go to a place 
where Herman Mordaunt’s sleigh invariaply passes at this 
hour, for the ladies almost live in the air. I never miss 
the occasion of seeing them.” 

I had now a clue to Guert’s being so much in the street. 
He was as good as his word, however, for he took a stand 
near the Dutch church, where I soon had the happiness of 
seeing Anneke and her friend driving past, on their even- 
ing’s excursion. How blooming and lovely the former 
looked ! Mary Wallace’s eye turned, I fancied understand- 
ing^, to the corner where Guert had placed himself, and 
her colour deepened as she returned his bow. But, the 
start of surprise, the smile, and the lightening eye of Anneke, 
as she unexpectedly saw me, filled my soul with delight, 
almost too great to be borne. 


CHAPTER XII. 

“Then the wine it gets into their heads, 

And turns the wit out of its station; 

Nonsense gets in, in its stead, 

And their puns are now all botheration.” 

The Punning Society. 

Guert Ten Eyck looked at me expressively, as the sleigh 
whirled round an angle of the building and disappeared. 


« 


SATANSTOE. 175 

He then proposed that we should proceed. On ascending 
the main street, I was not a little surprised at discovering 
the sort of amusement that was going on, and in which it 
seemed to me all the youths of the place were engaged. 
By youths, I do not mean lads of twelve and fourteen, but 
young men of eighteen and twenty, the amusement being 
that of sliding down hill, or “ coasting,” as I am told it is 
called in Boston. The acclivity was quite sharp, and of 
sufficient length to give an impetus to the sled, that was set 
in motion at a short distance above the English church; an 
impetus that would carry it past the Dutch church — a dis- 
tance that was somewhat more than a quarter of a mile. 
The hand-sleds employed, were of a size and construction 
suited to the dimensions of those that used them ; and, as a 
matter of course, there was no New Yorker that had not 
learned how to govern the motion of one of these vehicles, 
even when gliding down the steepest descent, with the nicest 
delicacy and greatest ease. As children, or boys as late in 
life as fourteen even, every male in the colony, and not a 
few of the females, had acquired this art ; but this was the 
first place in which I had ever known adults to engage in 
the sport. The accidental circumstance of a hill’s belong- 
ing to the principal street, joined to the severity of the win- 
ters, had rendered an amusement suited to grown people, 
that, elsewhere, was monopolized by the children. 

By the time we had ascended as high as the English 
church, a party of young officers came down from the fort, 
gay with the glass and the song of the regimental mess. 
No sooner did they reach the starting-point, than three or 
four of the more youthful got possession of as many sleds, 
and off they went, like the shot starting from its gun. Nobody 
seemed to think it strange ; but, on the contrary, I observed 
that the elderly people looked on with a complacent gravity, 
that seemed to say how vividly the sight recalled the days 
of their own youth. I cannot say, however, that the stran- 
gers succeeded very well in managing their sleds, generally 
meeting with some stoppage before they reached the bottom 
of the hill. 

“ Will you take a slide, Mr. Littlepage?” Guert demanded, 
with a courteous gravity, that showed how serious a business 
he fancied the sport. “ Here is a large and strong sled that 


176 


SATANSTOE. 


will carry double, and you might trust yourself with me, 
though a regiment of horse were paraded down below.” 

“ But are we not a little too old for such an amusement, 
in the streets of a large town, Mr. Ten Eyck ?” I answered, 
doubtingly, looking round me in an uncertain manner, as 
one who did not like to adventure, even while he hesitated 
to refuse. “ Those king’s officers are privileged people, 
you know.” 

“ No man has a higher privilege to use the streets of 
Albany, than Mr. Cornelius Littlepage, sir, I can assure 
you. The young ladies often honour me with their com- 
pany, and no accident has ever happened.” 

“ Do the young ladies venture to ride down this street, 
Mr. Ten Eyck?” 

“ Not often, sir, I grant you ; though that has been done, 
too, of a moonlight night. There is a more retired spot, at 
no great distance from this street, however, to which the 
ladies are rather more partial. Look, Mr. Littlepage ! — 

There goes the Hon. Capt. Monson, of the th, and he 

will be down the hill and up again before we are off, unless 
you hurry. Take your seat, lady-fashion, and leave me to 
manage the sled.” 

What could I do ! Guert had been so very civil, was so 
much in earnest, everybody seemed to expect it of me, and 
the Hon. Capt. Monson was already a hundred yards on his 
way to the bottom, shooting ahead with the velocity of an 
arrow. I took my seat, accordingly, placing my feet to- 
gether on the front round, “ lady-fashion ,” as directed. In 
an instant, Guert’s manly frame was behind me, with a leg 
extended on each side of the sled, the government of which, 
as every American who has been born north of the Potomac 
well knows, is effected by delicate touches of the heels. 
Guert called out to the boys for a shove, and away we 
went, like the ship that is bound for her “ destined element,” 
as the poets say. We got a good start, and left the spot as 
the arrow leaves its bow. 

Shall I own the truth, and confess I had a momentary 
pleasure in the excitement produced by the rapidity of the 
motion, by the race we were running with another sled, and 
by the skill and ease with which Guert, almost without 
touching the ground, carried us unharmed through sundry 


SATANSTOE. 


177 


* 


narrow passages, and along the line of wood and venison 
loaded sleighs, barely clearing the noses of their horses. I 
forgot that I was making this strange exhibition of myself, 
in a strange place, and almost in strange company. So 
rapid was our motion, however, that the danger of being 
recognised was not very great ; and there were so many to 
divide attention, that the act of folly would have been over- 
looked, but for a most untimely and unexpected accident. 
We had gone the entire length between the two churches 
with great success, — several steady, grave, and respectable- 
looking old burghers calling out, on a high key, “Veil 
done, Guert !” — for Guert appeared to be a general favour- 
ite, in the sense of fun and frolic at least, — when, turning 
an angle of the Old Dutch Temple, in the ambitious wish 
of shooting past it, in order to run still lower and shoot off 
the wharf upon the river, we found ourselves in imminent 
danger of running under the fore-legs of two foaming 
horses, that were whirling a sleigh around the same corner 
of the church. Nothing saved us but Guert’s readiness and 
physical power. By digging a heel into the snow, he 
caused the sled to fly round at a right angle to its former 
course, and us to fly off it, heels over head, without much 
regard to the proprieties, so far as postures or grace was 
concerned. The negro who drove the sleigh pulled up, at 
the same instant, with so much force as to throw his horses 
on their haunches. The result of these combined move- 
ments was to cause Guert and myself to roll over in such a 
way as to regain our feet directly alongside of the sleigh. 
In rising to my feet, indeed, I laid a hand on the side of the 
vehicle, in order to assist me in the effort. 

What a sight met my eyes ! In the front stood the negro, 
grinning from ear to ear ; for he deemed every disaster that 
occurred on runners a fit subject for merriment. Who ever 
did anything but laugh at seeing a sleigh upset? — and it 
was consequently quite in rule to do so on seeing two over- 
grown boys roll over from a hand-sled. I could have 
knocked the rascal down, with a good will, but it would not 
have done to resent mirth that proceeded from so legitimate 
a cause. Had I been disposed to act differently, however, 
the strength and courage necessary to effect such a purpose 
would have been annihilated in me, by finding myself stand- 


178 


S ATANSTOE. 


ing within three feet, and directly in front of Anneke Mor- 
daunt and Mary Wallace! The shame at being thus de- 
tected in the disastrous termination of so boyish a flight, at 
first nearly overcame me. How Guert felt I do not know, 
but, for a single instant, I wished him in the middle of the 
Hudson, and all Albany, its Dutch Church, sleds, hill, and 
smoking burghers included, on top of him. 

“ Mr. Littlepage !” burst out of the rosy lips of Anneke, 
in a tone of voice that was not to be misunderstood. 

“ Mr. Guert Ten Eyck !” exclaimed Mary Wallace, in 
an accent and manner that bespoke chagrin. 

“ At your service, Miss Mary,” answered Guert, who 
looked a little sheepish at the result of his exploit, though 
for a reason I did not at first comprehend, brushing some 
snow from his cap at the same time — “ At your service, 
now and ever, Miss Mary. But, do not suppose it was 
awkwardness that produced this accident, I entreat of you. 
It was altogether the fault of the boy who is stationed to 
give warning of sleighs below the church, who must have 
left his post. Whenever either of you young ladies will do 
me the honour to take a seat with me, I will pledge my cha- 
racter, as an Albanian, to carry her to the foot of the high- 
est and steepest hill in town without disturbing a riband.” 

Mary Wallace made no answer ; and I fancied she looked 
a little sad. It is possible Anneke saw and understood this 
feeling, for she answered with a spirit that I had never seen 
her manifest before — 

“ No, no, Mr. Ten Eyck,” she said ; “ when Miss Wal- 
lace or I wish to ride down hill, and become little girls again, 
we will trust ourselves with boys, whose constant practice 
will be likely to render them more expert than men can be, 
who have had time to forget the habits of their childhood. 
Pompey, we will return home.” 

The cold inclination of the head that succeeded, while it 
was sufficiently gracious to preserve appearances, proved 
too plainly that neither Guert nor myself had risen in the 
estimation of his mistress, by this boyish exhibition of his 
skill with the hand-sled. Had either of these young ladies 
been Albanians, it is probable they would have laughed at 
our mishap ; but no high hill running directly into New 
York, the custom that prevailed at Albany did not prevail 


SATANSTOE. 


179 


in the capital. Small boys alone used the hand-sled in that 
part of the colony, while the taste continued longer among 
the more stable and constant Dutch. Of course, we had 
nothing to do but to make profound bows, and suffer the 
negro to move on. 

“ There it is, Littlepage,” exclaimed Guert, with a species 
of sigh ; “ I shall have nothing but iced looks for the next 
week, and all for riding down hill four or five years later 
than is the rule. Everybody, hereabouts, uses the hand-sled 
until eighteen, or so ; and I am only five-and-twenty. Pray, 
what may be your age, my dear fellow ?” 

“ Twenty-one, only about a month since. I wish, with 
all my heart, it were ten !” 

“ Turned the corner ! — well, that’s unlucky ; but we must 
make the best of it. My taste is for fun , and so I have 
admitted to Miss Wallace, twenty times ; but she tells me 
that, after a certain period, men should look to graver things, 
and think of their country. She has lectured me already, 
once, on the subject of sliding; though she allows that 
skating is a manly exercise.” 

“ When a lady takes the trouble to lecture, it is a sure 
sign she feels some interest in the subject.” 

“ By St. Nicholas ! I never thought of that, Littlepage !” 
cried Guert, who, notwithstanding the great advantages he 
possessed in the way of face and* figure, turned out to have 
less personal vanity about him than almost any man I ever 
met with. “ Lecture me she has, and that more than once, 
too !” 

“ The lady who lectures me, sir, will not get rid of me, 
at the end of the discourse.” 

“ That’s manly ! I like it, Littlepage ; and I like you. I 
foresee we shall be great friends ; and we’ll talk more of 
this matter another time. Now, Mary has spoken to me 
of the war, and hinted that a single man, like myself, with 
the world before him, might do something to make his name 
known in it. I did not like that ; for a girl who loved a 
fellow would not wish to have him shot.” 

“ A girl who took no interest in her suitor, Mr. Ten Eyck, 
would not care whether he did anything or not. But I must 
now quit you, being under an engagement to meet Mr. Wor- 
den at the inn, at six.” 


180 


SAT ANSTOE. 


Guert and I shook hands, for the tenth or twelfth time 
hat day, parting with an understanding that he was to cal. 
for us, to accompany our party to the supper, at the previ 
ously appointed hour. As I walked towards the inn, I pon 
dered on what had just occurred, in a most mortified temper. 
That Anneke was displeased, was only too apparent ; and 
I felt fearful that her displeasure was not entirely free from 
contempt. As for Guert’s case, it did not strike me as being 
half so desperate as my own ; for there was nothing unna- 
tural, but something quite the reverse, in women of sense 
and stability, when they admire any youth of opposite tem- 
perament, — and I remembered to have heard my grandfather 
say that such was apt to be the case, — wishing to elevate 
their suitors in their pursuits and characters. Had Anneke 
taken the pains to remonstrate with me about the folly of 
what I had done, I should have been encouraged ; but the 
cold indifference of her manner, not to call it contempt, cut 
me to the quick. It is true, Anneke seemed to feel most on 
her friend’s account ; but I could not mistake the look of 
surprise with which she saw me, Cornelius Littlepage, rise 
from under her sleigh, and stand brushing the snow from 
my clothes, like a great calf as I was ! No man can bear 
to be rendered ridiculous in the presence of the woman he 
loves. 

m 

Near the inn I met Dirck, his whole face illuminated with 
a look of pleasure. 

“ I have just met Anneke and Mary Wallace !” he said', 
“ and they stopped their sleigh to speak to me. Herman 
Mordaunt has been here half the winter, and he means to 
remain most of the summer. There will be no Lilacsbush 
this season, the girls told me, but Herman Mordaunt has 
got a house, where he lives with his own servants, and boils 
his own pot, as he calls it. We shall be at home there, of 
course, for you are such a favourite, Corny, ever since that 
affair of the lion ! As for Anneke, I never saw her looking 
so beautiful !” 

“ Did Miss Mordaunt say she would be happy to see us 
on the old footing, Dirck ?” 

“Did she? — I suppose so. She said I shall be glad to 
see you, cousin Dirck, whenever you can come, and I hop© 


SATANSTOE. 181 

you will bring with you sometimes the clergyman of whom 
you have spoken.” 

“ But nothing of Jason Newcome or Corny Littlepage 1 
Tell the truth at once, Dirck ; my name was not men- 
tioned ?” 

“ Indeet it was, t’ough ; / mentioned it several times, and 
told them how long we had been on the roat, and how you 
trove, and how you had sold the sleigh and horses already, 
and a dozen other t’ings. Oh ! we talket a great deal of 
you, Corny ; that is, I dit, and the girls listened.” 

“ Was my name mentioned by either of the young ladies, 
Dirck, in direct terms V’ 

“ To be sure ; Anneke had something to say about you, 
though it was so much out of the way, I can hardly tell 
you what it was now. Oh ! I remember : she said ‘ I have 
seen Mr. Littlepage, and think he has grown since we last 
met ; he promises to make a man one of these days.’ What 
could t’at mean, Corny ?” 

“ That I am a fool, a great overgrown boy, and wish I 
had never seen Albany ; that’s what it means. Come, let 
us go in ; Mr. Worden will be expecting us. Ha ! Who 
the devil’s that, Dirck ?” 

A loud Dutch shout from Dirck broke out of him, regard- 
less of the street, and his whole face lighted up into a broad 
sympathetic smile. I had caught a glimpse of a sled 
coming down the acclivity we were slowly ascending, which 
sled glided past us just as I got the words out of my mouth. 
It was occupied by Jason alone, who seemed just as much 
charmed with the sport as any other grown-up boy on the 
hill. There he went, the cocked-hat uppermost, the pea- 
green coat beneath, and the striped woollens and heavy 
plated buckles stuck out, one on each side, governing the 
movement of the sled with the readiness of a lad accus- 
tomed to the business. 

“ That must be capital fun, Corny !” my companion said, 
scarce able to contain himself for the pleasure he felt. “ I 
have a great mind to borrow a sled and take a turn myself.” 

“ Not if you intend to visit Miss Mordaunt, Dirck. Take 
my word for it, she does not like to see men following the 
pleasures of boys.” 

16 




182 


S AT ANSTOE . 


Dirck stared at me, but being taciturn by nature, he said 
nothing, and we entered the house. There we found Mr. 
Worden reading over an old sermon, in readiness for his 
next Sunday’s business ; and sitting down, we began to com- 
pare notes on the subject of the town and its advantages. 
The divine was in raptures. As for the Dutch he cared 
little for them, and had seen but little of them, overlooking 
them in a very natural, metropolitan sort of way ; but he 
had found so many English officers, had heard so much 
from home, and had received so many invitations, that his 
campaign promised nothing but agreeables. We sat chat- 
ting over these matters until the tea was served, and for an 
hour or two afterwards. My bargains were applauded, my 
promptitude — the promptitude of Guert would have been 
more just — was commended, and I was told that my parents 
should hear the whole truth in the matter. In a word, our 
Mentor being in good-humour with himself, was disposed to 
be in good humour with every one else. 

At the appointed hour, Guert came to escort us to the 
place of meeting. He was courteous, attentive, and as frank 
as the air he breathed, in manner. Mr. Worden took to 
him excessively, and it was soon apparent that he and 
young Ten Eyck were likely to become warm friends. 

“ You must know, gentlemen, that the party to which I 
have had the honour of inviting you, will be composed of 
some of the heartiest young men in Albany, if not in the 
colony. We meet once a month, in the house of an old 
bachelor, who belongs to us, and who will be delighted to 
converse with you, Mr. Worden, on the subject of religion. 
Mr. Van Brunt is very expert in religion, and we make him 
the umpire of all our disputes and bets on that subject.” 

This sounded a little ominous, I thought; but Mr. Worden 
was not a man to be frightened from a good hot supper, by 
half-a-dozen inadvertent words. He could tolerate even a 
religious discussion, with such an object in view. He 
walked on, side by side with Guert, and we were soon at 
the door of the house of Mr. Van Brunt, the Bachelor in 
Divinity, as I nicknamed him. Guert entered without 
knocking, and ushered us into the presence of our quasi 
nost. 

We found in the room a company of just twelve, Gueri 


SATANSTOE. 


183 

included ; that being the entire number of the club. It 
struck me, at the first glance, that the whole set had a sort 
of slide-down-hill aspect, and that we were likely to make 
a night of it. My acquaintance with Dirck, and indeed my 
connection with the old race, had not left me ignorant of a 
certain peculiarity in the Dutch character. Sober, sedate, 
nay phlegmatic as they usually appeared to be, their roys 
tering was on a pretty high key, when it once fairly com- 
menced. We thought one lad of the old race, down in 
Westchester, fully a match for two of the Anglo-Saxon 
breed, when it came to a hard set-to ; no ordinary fun ap- 
peasing the longings of an excited Dutchman. Tradition 
had let me into a good many secrets connected with their 
excesses, and I had heard the young Albanians often men- 
tioned as being at the head of their profession in these par- 
ticulars. 

Nothing could be more decorous, or considerate, however, 
than our introduction and reception. The young men 
seemed particularly gratified at having a clergyman of their 
party, and I make no doubt it was intended that the evening 
should be one of unusual sobriety and moderation. I heard 
the word “Dominie” whispered from mouth to mouth, and 
it was easy to see the effect it produced. Most eyes were 
fastened on Van Brunt, a red-faced, square-built, somewhat 
dissolute-looking man of forty-five, who seemed to find his 
apology for associating with persons so much his juniors, 
in his habits, and possibly in the necessity of the case ; as 
men of his own years might not like his company. 

“ And, gentlemen, it is dry business standing here look- 
ing at each other,” observed Mr. Van Brunt ; “ and we will 
take a little punch, to moisten our hearts, as well as our 
throats. Guert, yon is the pitcher.” 

Guert made good use of the pitcher, and each man had 
his glass of punch, — a beverage then, as now, much used 
in the colony. I must acknowledge that the mixture was 
very knowingly put together, though I had no sooner swal- 
lowed my glass, than I discovered it was confounded strong. 
Not so with Guert. Not only did he swallow one glass, but 
he swallowed two , in quick succession, like a man who was 
thirsty ; standing at the time in a fine, manly, erect attitude, 
as one who trifled with something that did not half tax his 


SAT ANSTOE. 


184 

powers. The pitcher, though quite large, was emptied at 
that one assault, in proof of which it was turned bottom 
upwards, by Guert himself. 

Conversation followed, most of it being in English, out 
of compliment to the Dominie, who was not supposed to 
understand Dutch. This was an error, however, Mr. Wor- 
den making out tolerably well in that language, when he 
tried. I was felicitated on the bargains I had made with the 
contractor; and many kind and hospitable attempts were made 
to welcome me in a frank, hearty manner among strangers. 
I confess I was touched by these honest and sincere endea- 
vours to put me at my ease, and when a second pitcher of 
punch was brought round, I took another glass with right 
good-will, while Guert, as usual, took two ; though the 
liquor he drank, I had many occasions to ascertain subse- 
quently, produced no more visible effect on him, in the way 
of physical consequences, than if he had not swallowed it. 
Guert was no drunkard, far from it ; he could only drink 
all near him under the table, and remain firm in his chair 
himself. Such men usually escape the imputation of being 
sots, though they are very apt to pay the penalty of their 
successes at the close of their career. These are the men 
who break down at sixty, if not earlier, becoming subject 
to paralysis, indigestion, and other similar evils. 

Such was the state of things, the company gradually 
getting into a very pleasant humour, when Guert was called 
out of the room by one of the blacks, who bore a most 
ominous physiognomy while making his request. He was 
gone but a moment, when he returned with a certain sort 
of consternation painted in his own handsome face. Mr. 
Van Brunt was called into a corner, where two or three 
more of the principal persons present soon collected, in an 
earnest, half-whispered discourse. I was seated so near this 
group, as occasionally to overhear a few expressions, though 
to get no clear clue to its meaning. The words I overheard 
were, “old Cuyler” — “capital supper” — “venison and 
ducks” — “partridges and quails” — “knows us all” — “never 
do” — “ Dominie the man” — “ strangers” — “ how to do it?” 
and several other similar expressions, which left a vague 
impression on my mind that our supper was in great peril 
from some cause or other ; but what that cause was I could 


S AT ANSTOE. 


185 


not learn. Guert was evidently the principal person in this 
consultation, everybody appearing to listen to his suggestions 
with respect and attention. At length our friend came out 
of the circle, and in a courteous, self-possessed manner com- 
municated the difficulty in the following words : 

“ You must know, Rev. Mr. Worden, and Mr. Littlepage, 
and Mr. Follock, and Mr. Newcome, that we have certain 
customs of our own, among us youths of Albany, that perhaps 
are not familiar to you gentlemen nearer the capital. The 
trut’ is, that we are not always as wise and as sober as our 
parents, and grandparents in particular, could wish us to be. It 
is t’ought a good thing among us sometimes, to rummage the 
hen-roosts and poultry-yards of the burghers, and to sup 
on the fruits of such a forage. I do not know how it is 
with you, gentlemen ; but I will own, that to me, ducks and 
geese got in this innocent, game-like way, taste sweeter than 
when they are bought in the market-hall : our own supper 
for to-night was a bought supper, but it has become the 
victim of a little enlargement of the practice I have men- 
tioned.” 

“ How ! — how ’s that, friend Ten Eyck !” exclaimed Mr. 
Worden, in no affected consternation. “ The supper a victim, 
do you say ?” 

“ Yes, sir ; to be frank at once, it is gone ; gone to a pullet, 
a steak, and a potatoe. They have not left us a dish !” 

“ They !” echoed the parson — “And who can they be ?” 

“ That is a point yet to be ascertained, for the operation 
has been carried on in so delicate and refined a way, that 
none of our blacks know anything of the matter. It seems 
there was a cry of fire just now, and it took every one of 
the negroes into the street ; during which time all our game 
has been put up, and has flown.” 

“ Bless me ! bless me ! what a calamity ! — what a ras- 
cally theft ! Did you not mark it down I” 

“ No sir, I am sorry to say we have not ; nor do we apply 
such hard names to a frolic, even when we lose our supper 
by it. It is the act of some of our associates and friends, 
who hope to feast at our expense to-night ; and who will, 
gentlemen, unless you will consent to aid us in recovering 
our lost dishes.” 

“ Aid you, my dear sir — I will do any thing you can 

ift# 


S AT ANSTOE. 


186 

wish — what will you have me attempt? Shall I go to the 
fort, and ask for succour from the army ?” 

“ No, sir ; our object can be effected short of t’at. I am 
quite certain we can find what we want, only two or three 
doors from this, if you will consent to lend us a little, a very 
little of your assistance.” 

“ Name it — name it, at once, for Heaven’s sake, Mr. 
Guert. The dishes must be getting cold, all this time,” 
cried Mr. Worden, jumping up with alacrity, and looking 
about him, for his hat and cloak. 

“ The service we ask of you, gentlemen, is just this,” 
rejoined Guert, with a coolness that, when I came to reflect 
on the events of that night, has always struck me as singu- 
larly astonishing. “ Our supper, and an excellent one it is, 
is close at hand, as I have said. Nothing will be easier 
than to get it on our own table, in the next room, could we 
only manage to call old Doortje off duty, and detain her 
for five minutes at the area gate of her house. She knows 
every one of as, and would smell a rat in a minute, did we 
show ourselves ; but Mr. Worden and Mr. Littlepage, here, 
might amuse her for the necessary time, without any trou- 
ble. She is remarkably fond of Dominies, and would not 
be able to trace you back to this house, leaving us to eat 
the supper in peace. After fat, no one cares for the rest.” 

“I’ll do it! — I’ll do it!” cried Mr. Worden, hurrying 
into the passage, in quest of his hat and cloak. “ It is no 
more than just that you should have your own, and the 
supper will be either eaten, or overdone, should we go for 
constables.” 

“ No fear of constables, Mr. Worden, we never employ 
them in our poultry wars. All we, who will get the supper 
back again, can expect, will be merely a little hot water, or 
a skirmish with our friends.” 

The details of the movement were now intelligibly and 
clearly settled. Guert was to head a party provided with 
large clothes-baskets, who were to enter the kitchen, during 
Doortje’s absence, and abstract the dishes, which could not 
yet be served, as all in Albany, of a certain class, sat down 
to supper at nine precisely. As for Doortje, a negro who 
was in the house, in waiting on one of the guests, his mas- 
ter, would manage to get her out to the area gate, the houss 


S AT ANSTOE. 


187 

having a cellar kitchen, where it would depend on Mr. Wor- 
den to detain her, three or four minutes. To my surprise, 
the parson entered on the execution of the wild scheme with 
boyish eagerness, affirming that he could keep the woman 
half an hour, if it were necessary, by delivering her a lec- 
ture on the importance of observing the eighth command- 
ment. As soon as the preliminaries were thus arranged, 
the two parties proceeded on their respective duties, the 
hour admonishing us of the necessity of losing no time un- 
necessarily. 

I did not like this affair from the first, the experiment of slid- 
ing down hill, having somewhat weakened my confidence in 
Guert Ten Eyck’s judgment. Nevertheless, it would not do 
for me to hold back, when Mr. Worden led, and, after all, there 
was no great harm in recovering a supper that had been 
abstracted from our own house. Guert did not proceed, like 
ourselves, by the street, but he went with his party, out of 
a back gate into an alley, and was to enter the yard of the 
house he assailed, by means of a similar gate in its rear. Once 
in that yard, the access to the kitchen, and the retreat, were 
very easy, provided the cook could be drawn away from 
her charge at so important a moment. Everything, there- 
fore, depended on the address of the young negro who was 
in the house, and ourselves. 

On reaching the gate of the area, we stopped while our 
negro descended to invite Doortje forth. This gave us a 
moment to examine the building. The house was large, 
much larger than most of those round it, and what struck 
me as unusual, there was a lighted lamp over the door. 
This looked as if it might be a sort of a tavern, or eating 
house, and rendered the whole thing more intelligible to me. 
Our roystering plunderers doubtless intended to sup on their 
spoils at that tavern. 

The negro was gone but a minute, when he came out 
with a young black of his own sex, a servant whom he 
was leading off his post, on some pretence of his own, and 
was immediately followed by the cook. Doortje made many 
curtsies as soon as she saw the cocked-hat and "black cloak 
of the Dominie, begging his pardon and asking his pleasure. 
Mr. Worden now began a grave and serious lecture on the 
ein of stealing, holding the confounded Doortje in discourse 


188 


S AT ANSTOE. 


quite three minutes. In vain the cook protested she had 
taken nothing; that her master’s property was sacred in 
her eyes, and ever had been ; that she never gave away 
even cold meats without an order, and that she could not 
imagine why she was to be talked to in this way. To give 
him his due, Mr. Worden performed his part to admiration, 
though it is true he had only an ignorant wench, who was 
awed by his profession, to manage. At length we heard a 
shrill whistle from the alley, the signal of success, when 
Mr. Worden wished Doortje a solemn good-night, and 
walked away with all the dignity of a priest. In a minute 
or two we were in the house again, and were met by Guert 
with cordial shakes of the hand, thanks for our acceptable 
service, and a summons to supper. It appears that Doortje 
had actually dished-up everything, all the articles standing 
before a hot fire waiting only for the clock to strike nine to 
be served. In this state, then, the only change the supper 
had to undergo, was to bring it a short distance through the 
alley and to place it on our table, instead of that for which 
it was so lately intended. 

Notwithstanding the rapidity with which the changes had 
been made, it would not have been very easy for a stran- 
ger to detect any striking irregularity in our feast. It is 
true, there were two sets of dishes on the table, or rather 
dishes of two different sets ; but the ducks, game, &c., were 
not only properly cooked, but were warm and good. To 
work everybody went, therefore, with an appetite, and for 
five minutes little was heard beyond the clatter of knives 
and forks. Then came the drinking of healths, and finally 
the toasts, and the songs, and the stories. 

Guert sang capitally, in a fine, clear, sweet, manly voice, 
and he gave us several airs with words both in English and 
in Dutch. He had just finished one of these songs, and the 
clapping of hands was still loud and warm, when the young 
man called on Mr. Worden for a lady, or a sentiment. 

“ Come, Dominie,” he called out, for by this time the 
feast had produced its familiarity — “ Come, Dominie, you 
have acquitted yourself so well as a lecturer, that we are 
all dying to hear you preach.” 

“ A lady do you say, sir ?” asked the parson, who was as 
merry as any of us. 


SATANSTOE. 189 

* A laty — a laty” — shouted six or seven at once. “ The 
Tominie’s laty — the Tominie’s laty.” 

“ Well, gentlemen, since you will have it so, you shall 
have one. You must not complain if she prove a little 
venerable, — but I give you ‘ Mother Church.’ ” 

This produced a senseless laugh, as such things usually 
do, and then followed my turn. Mr. Van Brunt very 
formally called on me for a lady. After pausing a moment 
I said, as I flatter myself, w r ith spirit — 

“ Gentlemen, I will give you another almost as heavenly 
— Miss Anneke Mordaunt !” 

“ Miss Anneke Mordaunt !” was echoed round the table, 
and I soon discovered that Anneke was a general favourite, 
and a very common toast already at Albany. 

“ I shall now ask Mr. Guert Ten Eyck for his lady,” I 
said, as soon as silence was restored, there being very little 
pause between the cups that night. 

This appeal changed the whole character of the expres- 
sion of Guert’s face. It became grave in an instant, as if 
the recollection of her whose name he was about to utter 
produced a pause in his almost fierce mirth. He coloured, 
then raised his eyes and looked sternly round as if to chal- 
lenge denial, and gave — 

“ Miss Mary Wallace.” 

“ Ay, Guert, we are used to that name, now,” said Van 
Brunt, a little drily. “ This is the tenth time I have heard 
it from you within two months.” 

“ You will be likely to hear it twenty more, sir ; for I shall 
give Mary Wallace, and nobody but Mary Wallace, while 
the lady remains Mary Wallace. How, now, Mr. Constable ! 
What may be the reason we have the honour of a visit 
from you at this time of night.”* 

* In this whole affair of the supper, the reader will find incidents 
that bear a striking resemblance to certain local characteristics 
pourtrayed by Mrs. Grant, of Laggan, in her memoirs of an Ameri- 
can Lady ; thus corroborating the fidelity of the pictures of our 
ancient manners, as given by that respectable writer, by the unques- 
tioned authority of Mr. Cornelius Littlepage. — Editor. 


190 


S AT ANSTOE. 




CHAPTER XIII. 

« Masters, it is proved already 
That you are little better than false knaves ; 

And it will go near to be thought so, shortly.” 

Dogberry. 

The sudden appearance of the city constable, a func* 
tionary whose person was not unknown to most of the 
company, brought every man at table to his feet, the Rev. 
Mr. Worden, Dirck and myself, included. For my own 
part, I saw no particular reason for alarm, though it at 
once struck me that this visit might have some connection 
with the demolished supper, since the law does not, in all 
cases, suffer a man to reclaim even his own, by trick or 
violence. As for the constable himself, a short, compact, 
snub-nosed, Dutch-built person, who spoke English as if it 
disagreed with his bile, he was the coolest of the whole 
party. 

“ Veil, Mr. Guert,” he said, with a sort of good-natured 
growl of authority, “ here I moost coome ag’in ! Mr. Mayor 
woult be happy to see you, and ter Tominie, dat ist of your 
party ; and ter gentleman dat acted as clerk, ven he lec- 
tured old Doortje, Mr. Mayor’s cook.” 

Mr. Mayor’s cook ! Here, then, a secret was out, with a 
vengeance ! Guert had not reclaimed his own lost supper, 
which, having passed into the hands of the Philistines, was 
hopelessly gone ; but he had actually stolen and eaten the 
supper prepared for the Mayor of Albany, — Peter Cuyler, 
a man of note, and standing, in all respects ; a functionary 
who had held his office from time immemorial ; — the lamp 
was the symbol of authority, and not the sign of an inn, or 
an eating-house; — the supper, moreover, was never prepared 
for one man, or one family, but had certainly been got up 
for the honourable treatment of a goodly company ; — fif- 
teen stout men had mainly appeased their appetites on it; 
and the fragments were that moment under discussion 
among half-a-dozen large-mouthed, shining negro faces, in 
the kitchen ! Under circumstances like these, I looked in- 


SATAN STOE . 


191 

quiringly at the Rev. Mr. Worden— and the Rev. Mr. Wor- 
den looked inquiringly at me. There was no apparent 
remedy, however; but, after a brief consultation with Guert, 
we, the summoned parties, took our hats and followed Dog- 
berry to the residence of Mr. Mayor. 

“ You are not to be uneasy, gentlemen, at this little inter- 
ruption of our amusements,” said Guert, dropping in be- 
tween Mr. Worden and myself, as we proceeded on our 
way, “ these things happening very often among us. You 
are innocent, you know, under all circumstances, since you 
supposed that the supper was our own — brought back by 
direct means, instead of having recourse to the shabby de- 
lays of the law.” 

“And whose supper may this have been, sir, that we 
have just eaten ?” demanded Mr. Worden. 

“ Why, there can be no harm, now, in telling you the 
trut’, Dominie ; and I will own, therefore, it belonged in law 
to Mr. Mayor Cuyler. There is no great danger, however, 
as you will see, when I come to explain matters. You 
must know that the Mayor’s wife was a Schuyler, and my 
mother has some of that blood in her veins, and we count 
cousins as far as we can see, in Albany. It is just supping 
with one’s relations, a little out of the common way, as you 
will perceive, gentlemen.” 

“ Have you dealt fairly with Mr. Littlepage and myself, 
sir, in this affair?” Mr. Worden asked, a little sternly. “ I 
might, with great propriety, lecture to a cook, on the eighth 
commandment, when that cook was a party to robbing you 
of your supper; but how shall I answer to His Honour, Mr. 
Mayor, on the charge which will now be brought against 
me? It is not for myself, Mr. Guert, that I feel so much 
concern, as for the credit and reputation of my sacred office, 
and that, too, among your disciples of the schools of 
Leyden !” 

“ Leave it all to me, my dear Dominie — leave it all to 
me,” answered Guert, well disposed to sacrifice himself, 
rather than permit a friend to suffer. “ I am used to these 
little matters, and will take care of you.” 

“ I vill answer for t’at,” put in the constable, looking over 
his shoulder. “ No young fly-away in Allpowny hast more 
knowletge in t’ese matters t’an Mr. Guert, here. If any 


192 


SAT ANSTOE. 


potty can draw his heat out of the yoke, Mr. Guert can. 
Yaas — yaas — he know all apout t’ese little matters, sure 
enough.” 

This was encouraging, of a certainty ! Our associate 
was so well known for his tricks and frolics, that even the 
constable who took him calculated largely on his address in 
getting out of scrapes ! I did not apprehend that any of us 
were about to be tried and convicted of a downright robbery ; 
for I knew how far the Dutch carried their jokes of this 
nature, and how tolerant the seniors were to their juniors ; 
and especially how much all men are disposed to regard any 
exploit of the sort of that in which we had been engaged, 
when it has been managed adroitly, and in a way to excite 
a laugh. Still, it was no joke to rob a Mayor of his supper, 
these functionaries usually passing to their offices through 
the probationary grade of Alderman.* Guert was not free 
from uneasiness, as was apparent by a question he put to the 
officer, on the steps of Mr. Cuyler’s house, and under the 
very light of the official lamp. 

“ How is the old gentleman, this evening, Hans V 1 the 
principal asked, with some little concern in his manner. “ I 
hope he and his company have supped ?” 

“ Veil, t’at is more t’an I can telt you, Mr. Guert. He 
Iook’t more as like himself, when he hat the horse t’ieves 
from New Englant taken up, t’an he hast for many a tay. 
’Twas most too pat, Mr. Guert, to run away wit’ the Mayor’s 
own supper ! I coult have tolt you who hast your own tucks 
and venison.” 

“ I wish you had, Hans, with all my heart ; but we were 
hard pushed, and had a strange Dominie to feed. You know 
a body must provide well for company.” 

* The American Mayor is usually a different person from the Eng. 
lish Mayor. Until within the last five-and-twenty or thirty years, 
the Mayor of New York was invariably a man of social and political 
importance, belonging strictly to the higher class of society. The 
same was true of the Mayor of Albany. At the present time, the 
rule has been so far enlarged, as to admit a selection from all of the 
more reputable classes, without any rigid adherence to the highest. 
The elective principle has produced the change. During the writer’s 
boyhood, Philip Van Rensselaer, the brother of the late Patroon, was 
so long Mayor of Albany, as to be universally known by the sobriquet 
of “ The Mayor.” — Editor. 


SATANSTOE. 


193 


“ Yaas, yaas ; 1 understants it, and knows how you moost 
have peen nonplush’t to do sich a t’ing; put it was mo-o-st 
too pat. Veil, we are all young, afore we live to be olt — • 
t’at effery potty knows.” 

By this time the door was open, and we entered. Mr. 
Mayor had issued orders we should all be shown into the 
parlour, where I rather think, from what subsequently passed, 
he intended to cut up Guert a little more than common, by 
exposing him before the eyes of a particular person. At all 
events, the reader can judge of my horror, at finding that 
the party whose supper I had just helped to demolish, con- 
sisted, in addition to three or four sons and daughters of the 
house, of Herman Mordaunt, Mary Wallace, and Anneke ! 
Of course, everybody knew what had been done; but, until 
we entered the room, Mr. Mayor alone knew who had done 
it. Of Mr. Worden and myself even, he knew no more 
than he had learned from Dootje’s account of the matter; 
and the cook, quite naturally, had represented us as rogues 
feigning our divinity. 

Guert was a thoroughly manly fellow, and he did us the 
justice to enter the parlour first. Poor fellow ! I can feel 
for him, even at this distance of time, when his eye first fell 
on Mary Wallace’s pallid and distressed countenance. It 
could scarcely be less than I felt myself, when I first beheld 
Anneke’s flushed features, and the look of offended propriety 
that I fancied to be sparkling in her estranged eye. 

Mr. Mayor evidently regarded Mr. Worden with surprise, 
as indeed he did me ; for, instead of strangers, he probably 
expected to meet two of those delinquents whose faces were 
familiar to him, by divers similar jocular depredations, com- 
mitted within the limits of his jurisdiction. Then the cir- 
cumstance that Mr. Worden was a real Dominie, could not 
be questioned by those who saw him standing, as he did, 
face to face, with all the usual signs of his sacred office in 
his dress and air.” 

“ I believe there must be some mistake here, constable !” 
exclaimed Mr. Mayor. u Why have you brought these two 
strange gentlemen along with Guert Ten Eyck?” 

* My orters, Mr. Mayor, wast to pring Dootje’s 4 rapscallion 
Tominie,’ and his 4 rapscallion frient ;’ and t’at is one, and 

t’is ist PoPe..” 

■•7 


s 


194 SATANSTOE. 

“ This gentleman has the appearance of being a real 
clergyman, and that too, of the church of England.” 

“°Yaas, Mr. Mayor, t’at is voost so. He wilt preach 
fifteen minutes wit’out stopping, if you wilt give him a plack 
gownt ; and pray an hour in a white shirt.”” 

“ Will you do me the favour, Guert Ten Eyck, to let me 
have the names of the strangers I have the pleasure to re- 
ceive,” said the mayor, a little authoritatively. 

“ Certainly, Mr. Mayor ; certainly, and with very great 
pleasure. I should have done this at once, had we been 
ushered into your house by any one but the city constable. 
Whenever I accompany that gentleman anywhere, I always 
wait to ascertain my welcome.” 

Guert laughed with some heart at this allusion to his own 
known delinquencies, while Mr. Cuyler only smiled. 1 
could see, notwithstanding the severe measures to which he 
had resorted in this particular case, that the last was not 
unfriendly to the first, and that our friend Guert had not 
fallen literally among robbers, in being brought to the place 
where we were. 

“ This reverend dominie,” continued Guert, as soon as 
he had had his laugh, and had ventured to cast a short, in- 
quiring glance at Mary Wallace, “is a gentleman from 
England, Mr. Mayor, who is to preach in St. Peter’s the 
day after to-morrow, by special invitation from the chaplain ; 
when, I make no doubt, we shall all be much edified; Miss 
Mary Wallace among the rest, if she will do him the honour 
to attend the service — good, and angelic, and forgiving, as 
I know she is by nature.” 

This speech caused all eyes to turn on the young lady, 
W’hose face crimsoned, though she made no reply. I now 
felt satisfied that Guert’s manly, frank, avowed, and sincere 
admiration had touched the heart of Mary Wallace, while 

* This opinion of the constable’s must refer to the notion common 
amongst the non-Episcopal sects, that the value of spiritual provender 
was to be measured by the quantity. Preaching, however, might be 
overdone in the Dutch Reformed Churches ; for, quite within my re- 
collection, a half-hour glass stood on the pulpit of the Dutch edifice 
named in the text, to regulate the dominie’s wind. It was said it 
might be turned once with impunity; but wo betide him who should 
bo far trespass on his people’s patience as to presume to turn it ticict . 
— Editor. 


SATANSTOE, 


195 


ner reason condemned that which her natural tenderness 
encouraged ; and the struggle in her mind was then, and 
long after, a subject of curious study with me. As foi 
Anneke, 1 thought she resented this somewhat indiscreet, not 
to say indelicate though indirect avowal of his feelings to- 
wards his mistress ; and that she looked on Guert with even 
more coldness than she had previously done. Neither of 
the ladies, however, said anything. During this dumb-show, 
Mr. Cuyler had leisure to recover from the surprise of dis- 
covering that one of his prisoners was really a clergyman, 
and to inquire who the other might be. 

“ That gentleman, then, is in fact a clergyman !” he 
answered. “ You have forgotten to name the other, Guert.” 

“ This is Mr. Corny Littlepage, Mr. Mayor — the only 
son of Major Littlepage, of Satanstoe, Westchester.” 

The Mayor looked a little puzzled, and I believe felt some- 
what embarrassed as to the manner in which he ought to 
proceed. The incursion of Guert upon his premises much 
exceeded in boldness, anything of the kind that had ever 
before occurred in Albany. It was common enough for 
young men of his stamp to carry off poultry, pigs, &c., 
and feast on the spoils ; and cases had occurred, as I after- 
wards learned, in which rival parties of th^se depredators 
preyed on each other — the same materials for a supper 
having been known to change hands two or three times 
before they were consumed — but no one had ever presumed, 
previously to this evening, to make an inroad even on Mr. 
Mayor’s hencoop, much less to molest the domains of his 
cook. In the first impulse of his anger, Mr. Cuyler had 
sent for the constable ; and Guert’s club, with its place of 
meeting being well known, that functionary having had 
many occasions to visit it, the latter proceeded thither forth- 
with. It is probable, however, a little reflection satisfied the 
mayor that a frolic could not well be treated as a larceny ; and 
that Guert had some of his own wife’s blood in his veins. 
When he came to find that two respectable strangers were 
implicated in the affair, one of whom was actually a clergy- 
man, this charitable feeling was strengthened, and he changed 
his course of proceeding. 

“ You can return home, Hans,” said Mr. Mayor, very 
sensibly mollified in his manner. “ Should there be occa- 


196 


SATANSTOE 


sion for your further services, I will send for you. Now 
gentlemen,” as soon as the door closed on the constable, “1 
will satisfy you that old Peter Cuyler can cover a table, and 
feed his friends, even though Guert Ten Eyck be so near a 
neighbour. Miss Wallace, willvou allow me the honour to 
lead you to the table? Mr. Worden will see Mrs. Cuyler, 
in safety, to the same place.” 

On this hint, the missionary stepped forward with ala- 
crity, and led Mrs. Mayoress after Mary Wallace, with the 
utmost courtesy. Guert did the same to one of the young 
ladies of the house ; Anneke was led in by one of the young 
men ; and I took the remaining young lady, who, I pre- 
sumed, was also one of the family. It was very apparent 
we were respited ; and all of us thought it wisest to appear 
as much at our ease as possible, in order not to balk the 
humour of the principal magistrate of the ancient town of 
Albany. 

To do Mr. Mayor justice, the lost time had been so woll 
improved by Doortje, that, on looking around the table, I 
thought the supper to which we were thus strangely invited, 
was, of the two, the best I had seen that evening. Luckily, 
game was plenty ; and, by means of quails, partridges, 
oysters, venison patties, and other dishes of that sort, the 
cook had managed to send up quite as good a supper, at ten 
o’clock, as she had previously prepared for nine. 

I will not pretend that I felt quite at my ease, as I took 
my seat at the table, for the second time that night. All the 
younger members of the party looked exceedingly grave, as 
if they could very well dispense with our company ; the old 
people alone appearing to enter into the scene with any 
spirit. Anneke did not even look at me, after the first 
astounded look given on my entrance ; nor did Mary Wal- 
lace once cast her eyes towards Guert, when we reached 
the supper-room. Mr. Mayor, notwithstanding, had deter- 
mined to laugh off the affair; and he and Mr. Worden soon 
became excellent friends, and began to converse freely and 
naturally. 

“ Come, cousin Guert,” cried Mr. Mayor, after two or 
three glasses of Madeira had still further warmed his heart, 
“ fill, and pledge me — unless you prefer to give a lady. If 


SATANSTOE. 197 

ihe last, everybody will drink to her, with hearty good-will. 
You eat nothing, and must drink the more.” 

“Ah ! Mr. Mayor, I have toasted one lady, to-night, and 
cannot toast another.” 

“ Not present company excepted, my boy ?” 

“ No, sir, not even with that license. I pledge you, with 
all my heart, and thank you, with all my heart, for this gene- 
rous treatment, after my own foolish frolic ; — but, you know- 
how it is, Mr. Mayor, with us Albany youths, when our 
pride is up, and a supper must be had — ” 

“ Not I, Guert ; I know nothing about it ; but should very 
well like to learn. How came you, in the first place, to 
take such a fancy to my cook’s supper ? Did you imagine 
it better than Van Brunt’s cook could give you?” 

“ The supper of Arent Van Brunt’s cook has disappeared 
— gone on the hill, I fancy, among the red-coats ; and, to 
own the truth, Mr. Mayor, it was yours, or nothing. I had 
• invited these gentlemen to pass the evening with us. One 
of our blacks happened to mention what was going on here, 
and hospitality led us all astray. It was nothing more, I do 
assure you, Mr. Mayor.” 

“And so your hospitable feelings made your guests work 
for their supper, by sending them to preach to old Doortje, 
while you were dishing up my ducks and game?” 

“ Y our pardon, Mr. Mayor ; Doortje had dished-up, before 
she went to lecture. Your cook is too well trained to neg- 
lect her duty, even to hear a sermon by the Rev. Mr. Wor- 
den ! But, these gentlemen were quite as much deceived as 
the old woman ; for, they supposed we were after our own 
last goods, and did not know that you dwelt here ; and were 
as much my dupes as old Doortje herself. Truth obliges me 
to own this much, in their justification.” 

There was a general clearing up of countenances, at 
this frank avowal; and I saw that Anneke, herself, turned 
her looks inquiringly upon the speaker, and suffered a smile 
to relieve the extreme gravity of her sweet countenance. 
From that moment, a very sensible change came over the 
feelings and deportment of the younger part of the company, 
and the conversation became easier and more natural. It 
was certainly much in our favour to have it known, we had 
not officiously and boyishly joined in a gratuitous attempt 


198 


S AT ANSTOE. 


to rob and insult this particular and unoffending family, but 
that Mr. Worden and I supposed we were simply aiding in 
getting back those things which properly belonged to our 
hosts, and getting them back, too, in a manner of which the 
party we supposed we were acting against, would certainly 
have no right to complain, inasmuch as they had set the 
example. Guert was encouraged to go on further with his 
explanations; which he did, in his own honest, candid 
manner, exculpating us, in effect, from everything but being 
a little too much disposed to waggery, for a minister of the 
church, and his pupil, who had just commenced his travels. 

Anneke’s face brightened up, more and more, as the ex- 
planations proceeded ; and, soon after they were ended, she 
turned to me in a very gracious manner, and inquired after 
my mother. As I sat directly opposite to her, and the table 
was narrow, we could converse without attracting much at- 
tention to ourselves ; Mr. Mayor and his other guests keep- 
ing up a round of reasonably noisy jokes, on the events of 
the evening, nearer the foot of the table. 

“ You find some customs in Albany, Mr. Littlepage, that 
are not known to us, in New York,” Anneke observed, 
after a few preliminary remarks had opened the way to fur- 
ther communication. 

“ I scarce know, Miss Anneke, whether you allude to 
what has occurred this evening, or to what occurred this 
afternoon ?” 

“ To both, I believe,” answered Anneke, smiling, though 
she coloured, as I thought, with a species of feminine vexa- 
tion ; “ for, certainly, one is no more a custom with us than 
the other.” 

“ I have been most unfortunate, Miss Mordaunt, in the 
exhibitions I have made of myself in the course of the few 
hours I have passed in this, to me, strange place. I am 
afraid you regard me as little more than an overgrown boy 
who has been permitted by his parents to leave home sooner 
than he ought.” 

“ This is your construction, and not mine, Mr. Little- 
page. I suppose you know — but, we will talk of this in the 
other room, or at some other time.” 

I took the hint, and said no more on the subject while at 
table. Mr. Mayor, I suppose in consideration of our having 


S AT ANSTOE. 


199 


gone through the exactions of one feast already that even- 
ing, permited us to leave the supper-room much earlier than 
common, and the hour being late, the whole party broke up 
immediately afterwards. Before we separated, however, 
Herman Mordaunt approached me, in a friendly, free way, 
and invited me to come to his house at eight next morning 
to breakfast, requesting the pleasure of Dirck’s company at 
the same time ; the invitation to the latter going through 
me. It is scarcely necessary to say how gladly I accepted, 
and how much I was relieved by this termination of an ad- 
venture that, at one moment, menaced me with deep dis- 
grace. Had Mr. Mayor seen fit to pursue the affair of the 
abstraction of his first supper in a serious vein, although 
the legal consequences could not probably have amounted 
to anything very grave, they might prove very ridiculous; 
and I have no doubt they would have brought about a very 
abrupt termination of my visit to the north. As it was, my 
mind was vastly relieved, as I believe was the case also 
with that of the Rev. Mr. Worden. 

“ Corny,” said that gentleman, after we had wished Guert 
good-night, and were well on our way to the inn again, 
“ this second supper has helped surprisingly to digest the 
first. I doubt if our new acquaintance, here, will be likely 
to turn out very profitable to us.” 

“ Yet, sir, you appeared to take to him exceedingly, and 
I had thought you excellent friends.” 

“ I like the fellow well enough too ; for he is hearty, and 
frank, and good-natured ; but there was some little policy in 
keeping on good terms with him. I ’m afraid, Corny, I did 
not altogether consult the dignity of my holy office, this 
morning, on the ice! It is exceedingly unbecoming in a 
clergyman, to be seen running in a public place like a school- 
boy, or a youngster contending in a match. I thought, 
moreover, I overheard one of those young Dutchmen call 
me the ‘Loping Dominie;’ and so, taking altogether, it 
struck me it would be wisest to keep on good terms with this 
Guert Ten Eyck.” 

“ I see your policy, sir, and it does not become me to deny 
it. As for myself, I confess I like Guert surprisingly, and 
shall not give him up easily; though he has already got me 
into two serious scrapes in the short time we have been ao 


200 


SAT ANSTOE. 


quainted. He is a hearty, good-natured, thoughtless young 
fellow ; who, Dutchman-like, when he does make an attempt 
to enjoy life, does it with all his heart.” 

I then related the affair of the hand-sled to Mr. Worden, 
who gave me some of that sort of consolation, of which a 
man receives a great deal, as he elbows his way through 
this busy, selfish world. 

“ Well, Corny,” said my old master, “ I am not certain 
you did not look more like a fool, as you rolled over from 
that sled, than I looked while ‘ loping’ from our friends in 
the sleigh !” 

We both laughed as we entered the tavern ; I, to conceal 
the vexation 1 really felt, and Mr. Worden, as I presume, 
because he was flattered with the belief that I must have 
appeared quite as ridiculous as himself. 

Next morning I proceeded to Herman Mordaunt’s resi- 
dence at the earliest hour the rules of society would allow. 
I found the family established in one of those Dutch edifices, 
of which Albany was mainly composed, and which stood a 
little removed from the street — having a tiny yard in front, 
with the stoop in the gable, and that gable towards the yard. 
The battlement-walls of this house diminished towards the 
high apex of a very steep roof by steps, as we are all so 
much accustomed to see, and the whole was surmounted by 
an iron weathercock, that was perched on a rod of some 
elevation. It was always a matter of importance with the 
Dutch to know which way the wind blew; nor did it com- 
port with their habits of minute accuracy, to trust to the 
usual indications of the feeling on the skin, the bending of 
branches, the flying of clouds, or the driving of smoke ; but 
they must and would have the certainty of a machine, that 
was constructed expressly to let them know the fact. Smoke 
might err, but a weathercock would not ! 

No one was in the little parlour into which I was shown 
by the servant who admitted me to the house, and in whom 
I recognised Herman Mordaunt’s principal male attendant, 
of the household in New York. How pleasantly did that 
little room appear to me, in the minute or two that I was 
left in it alone. There lay the very shawl that Anneke had 
on, the day I met her in the Pinkster Field ; and a pair of 
gloves that it seemed to rne no other hands but hers were 


0 


SATANSTOE. 


201 


small enough to wear,* had been thrown on the shawl, care- 
lessly, as one casts aside a thing of that sort, in a hurry. 
A dozen other articles were put here and there, that denoted 
the habits and presence of females of refinement. But the 
gloves most attracted my attention, and I must needs rise 
and examine them. It is true, these gloves might belong to 
Mary Wallace, for she, too, had a pretty little hand, but I 
fancied they belonged to Anneke. Under this impression, 
I raised them to my lips, and was actually pressing them 
there, with a good deal of romantic feeling, when a light 
footstep in the room told me I was not alone. Dropping the 
gloves, I turned and beheld Anneke herself. She was re- 
garding me with an expression of countenance I did not then 
know how to interpret, and which I now hardly know how 
to describe. In the first place, her charming countenance 
was suffused with blushes, while her eyes were filled with an 
expression of softened interest, that caused my heart to beat 
so violently, that I did not know but it would escape by the 
channel of the throat. How near I was to declaring all I 
felt, at that moment; of throwing myself at the feet of the 
dear, dear creature, and of avowing how much and engross- 
ingly she had filled both my waking and sleeping thoughts 
during the last year, and of beseeching her to bless the re- 
mainder of my days, by becoming my wife ! Nothing pre- 
vented this sally, but the remark which Anneke made, 
the instant she had gracefully curtsied, in return to my 
confused and awkward bow, and which happened to be this : 

“ What do you find so much to admire in Miss Wallace’s 
gloves?” asked the wilful girl, biting her lip, as I fancied, 
to suppress a smile, though her cheeks were still suffused, 
and her eyes continued to give forth that indescribable ex- 
pression of bewitching softness. “ It is a pair my father 
presented to her, and she wore them last evening in com- 
pliment to him.” 

“ I beg pardon, Miss Mordaunt — Miss Anneke — that is — 
I beg pardon. Is there not a very delightful odour about 
those gloves — that is, I was thinking so, and was endea- 
vouring to ascertain what it might be by the scent.” 

“ It must be the lavender with which we young ladies are 
bo coquettish as to sprinkle our gloves and handkerchiefs — 
oi it may be musk. Marv is rather fond of musk, though 


SAT ANSTOE. 


202 

I prefer lavender. But what an evening we had, Mr. Lit* 
tlepage ! and what an introduction you have had to Albany, 
and most of all, what a master of ceremonies !” 

“ Do you then dislike Guert Ten Eyck as an acquaint- 
ance, Mis3 Anneke?” 

“ Far from it. It is quite impossible to dislike Guert ; 
he is so manly ; so ready to admit his own weaknesses ; so 
sincere in all he does and says ; so good natured ; and, in 
short, so much that, were one his sister, she might wish him 
to be, and yet so much that a sister must regret.” 

“ I thought last evening that all the ladies felt an interest 
in him, notwithstanding the numberless wild and ill-judged 
things he does. Is he not a favourite with Miss Wallace?” 

The quick, sensitive glance that Anneke gave me, said 
plainly enough that my question was indiscreet, and it was no 
sooner put than it was regretted. A shadow passed athwart 
the sweet face of my companion, and a moment of deep, 
and, as I fancied, of painful thought succeeded. Then a 
light broke over all, a smile illumined her features, after 
which a light girlish laugh came to show how active were 
the agents within, and how strong was the native tendency 
to happiness and humour. 

“ After all, Corny Littlepage,” said Anneke, turning her 
face towards me with an indescribable character of fun and 
feeling so blended in it, as fairly to puzzle me, “ you must 
admit that your exploit in the hand-sled was sufficiently 
ridiculous to last a young man for some time !” 

“ I confess it all, Anneke, and shall have a care how I 
turn boy again in a strange place. I am rejoiced to find, 
however, that you look upon the foolish affair of the slide 
as more grave than that of the supper, which I was fearful 
might involve me in serious disgrace.” 

“ Neither is very serious, Mr. Littlepage, though the last 
might have proved awkward, had not the Mayor known the 
ways of the young men of the town. They say, however, 
that nothing so bold has ever before been attempted in that 
way, in Albany, great as are the liberties that are often 
taken with the neighbours’ hen-coops.” 

And she laughed, and this time it was naturally, and 
without the least restraint. 

“ I hope you will not think it shabby in me, if I seem to 


SAT ANSTOE. 


203 


wish to throw all the blame on this harum-scarum Guert 
Ten Eyck. He drew me into both affairs, and into the last, 
in a great measure, innocently and ignorantly.” 

“ So it is understood, and so it would be understood, the 
moment Guert Ten Eyck was found to be connected with 
the affair at all.” 

“I may hope, then, to be forgiven, Anneke?” I said, 
holding out a hand to invite her to accept it as a pledge of 
pardon. 

Anneke did not prudishly decline putting her own little 
hand in mine, though I got only the ends of two or three 
slender delicate fingers ; and her colour increased as she 
bestowed this grace. 

“ You must ask forgiveness, Corny,” she answered, — 1 
believe she now used this familiar name simply to show 
how completely she had forgotten the little spleen she had 
certainly felt at my untoward exhibition in the street. — 
“ You must ask forgiveness of those who possess the right 
to pardon, if Corny Littlepage chooses to slide down hill, 
like a boy, what right has Anneke Mordaunt to say him 
nay ?” 

“ Every right in the world — the right of friendship — the 
right of a superior mind, of superior manners — the right 
that my ” 

“ Hush ! — that is Mr. Bulstrode’s footstep in the passage, 
and he will not understand this discussion on the subject of 
my manifold rights. It takes him some time, however, to 
throw aside his overcoats, and furs, and sword ; and I will 
just tell you that Guert Ten Eyck is a dangerous master of 
ceremonies for Corny Littlepage.” 

“ Yet, he has sense enough, feeling enough, heart enough 
to admire and love Mary Wallace.” 

“ Has he told you this, so soon ! But, I need not ask, as 
he tells his love to every one who will listen.” 

“And to Miss Wallace herself, I trust, among the num- 
ber. The man who loves, and loves truly, should not long 
permit its object to remain in any doubt of his feelings and 
intentions. It has ever appeared to me, Miss Mordaunt, as 
a most base and dastardly feeling in a man to wish to be 
certain of a woman’s returning his love, before he has the 
manliness to let his mistress understand his wishes. How 


204 


SATAN S T O la!. 


is a sensitive female to know when she is safe in yielding 
her affections, without this frankness on the part of her 
suitor? I’ll answer for it that Guert Ten Eyck has dealt 
thus honestly and frankly with Mary Wallace.” 

“ That is a merit which cannot be denied him,” answered 
Anneke, in a low, thoughtful tone of voice. “ Mary has 
heard this from his own mouth, again and again. Even 
my presence has been no obstacle to his declarations, for 
three times have I heard him beg Mary to consider him as 
a suitor for her hand, and entreat her not to decide on his 
offer until he has had a longer opportunity to win her 
esteem.” 

“And this you will admit, Miss Mordaunt, is to his credit; 
is manly, and like himself?” 

“ It is certainly frank and honourable, Mr. Littlepage, 
since it enables Miss Wallace to understand the object of 
his attentions, and leaves nothing to doubt, or uncertainty.” 

“ I am glad you approve of such fair and frank proceed- 
ings ; — though but a moment remains to say what I wish, 
it will suffice to add, that the course Guert Ten Eyck has 
aken towards Mary Wallace, Cornelius Littlepage would 
wish to pursue towards Anneke Mordaunt.” 

Anneke started, turned pale; then showed cheeks that 
were suffused with blushes, and looked at me with timid 
surprise. She made no answer ; though that earnest, yet 
timid gaze, long remained, and for that matter, still remains, 
vividly impressed upon my recollection. It seemed to ex- 
press astonishment, startled sensibility, feminine bashful- 
ness, and maiden coyness; but it did not appear to me that 
it expressed displeasure. There was no time, however, to 
ask for explanations, since the voices of Herman Mordaunt 
and Bulstrode were now heard at the very door, and, at the 
next instant, both entered the room. 


SAT ANSTOE. 


205 


CHAPTER XIV. 

“My beautiful ! my beautiful ! that standest meekly by, 

With thy proudly arch’d and glossy neck, and dark and fiery eye— 

Thus, thus I leap upon thy back, and scour the distant plains: 

Away ! who overtakes me now, shall claim thee for his pains.” 

The Arab to his Steed . 

Bulstrode seemed happy to meet me, complaining that t 

I had quite forgotten the satisfaction with which all New 
York, ag reeably to his account of the matter, had received 
me the past spring. Of course, I thanked him for his civi- 
lity ; and we soon became as good friends as formerly. In 
a minute or two, Mary Wallace joined us, and we all re- 
paired to the breakfast-table, w here we were soon joined by 
Dirck, who had been detained by some affairs of his own. 

Herman Mordaunt and Bulstrode had the conversation 
principally to themselves for the first few minutes. Mary 
Wallace was habitually silent ; but Anneke, without being 
loquacious, was sufficiently disposed to converse. This 
morning, however, she said little beyond what the civilities 
of the table required from the mistress of the house, and 
that little in as few words as possible. Once or tw'ice I 
could not help remarking that her hand remained on the 
handle of a richly-chased tea-pot, after that hand had per- 
formed its office ; and that her sweet, deep blue eye was 
fixed on vacancy, or on some object before her with a va- 
cant regard, in the manner of one that thought intensely. 

Each time as she recovered from these little reveries , a 
slight flush appeared on her face, and she seemed anxious 
to conceal the involuntary abstraction. This absence of 
mind continued until Bulstrode, who had been talking with 
our host on the subject of the movements of the army, sud- 
denly directed his discourse to me. 

“ I hope we owe this visit to Albany,” he said, “ to an 
intention on your part, Mr. Littlepage, to make one among 
us in the next campaign. I hear of many gentlemen of the 
colonies who intend to accompany us in our march to 
Quebec.” 


18 


<206 


S AT ANSTOE. 


“ That is somewhat farther than I had thought of going, 
Mr. Bulstrode,” was my answer, “ inasmuch as I have 
never supposed the king’s forces contemplated quite so dis- 
tant a march. It is the intention of Mr. Follock and my- 
self to get permission to attach ourselves to some regiment, 
and to go forward as far as Ticonderoga, at least ; for we 
do not like the idea of the French holding a post like that, 
so far within the limits of our own province.” 

“ Bravely said, sir ; and I trust I shall be permitted to be 
of some assistance when the time comes to settle details. 
Our mess would always be happy to see you; and you 
know that I am at its head, since the Lt. Colonel has left 
us.” 

I returned my thanks, and the discourse took another 
direction. 

“ I met Harris, as I was walking hither this morning,” 
Bulstrode continued, “ and he gave me, in his confused Irish 
way — for I insist he is Irish, although he was born in Lon- 
don — but he gave me a somewhat queer account of a supper 
he was at last night, which he said had been borne off by a 
foraging party of young Albanians, and brought into the bar- 
racks, as a treat to some of our gentlemen. This was bad 
enough, though they tell me a Dutchman always pardons 
such a frolic; but Harris makes the matter much worse, 
by adding that the supperless party indemnified itself by 
making an attack on the kitchen of Mr. Mayor, and carry- 
ing off his ducks and partridges, in a way to leave him 
without even a potatoe !” 

I felt that my face was as red as scarlet, and I fancied 
everybody was looking at me, while Herman Mordaunt 
took on himself the office of making a reply. 

“ The story does not lose in travelling, as a matter of 
course,” answered our host, “ though it is true in the main. 
We all supped with Mr. Cuyler last evening, and know that 
he had much more than a potatoe on the table.” 

“ All ! — What, the ladies ?” 

“ Even to the ladies — and Mr. Littlepape in the bargain,’ 
returned Herman Mordaunt, casting a glance at me, and 
smiling. “ Each and all of us will testify he not only had 
a plenty of supper, but that which was good.” 

“ I see by the general smile,” cried Bulstrode, “ that there 


SATANSTOE. 207 

is a sous entendu here, and shall insist on being admitted 
to the secret.” 

Herman Mordaunt now told the whole story, not being 
particularly careful to conceal the more ludicrous parts, 
dwelling with some emphasis on the lecture Mr. Worden 
had delivered to Doortje, and appealing to me to know whe- 
ther I did not think it excellent. Bulstrode laughed, of 
course ; though I fancied both the young ladies wished no- 
thing had been said on the subject. Anneke even attempted, 
once or twice, to divert her lather from certain comments 
that he made, in which he spoke rather lightly of such sort 
of amusements, in general. 

“ That Guert Ten Eyck is a character !” exclaimed Bul- 
strode, “ and one I am sometimes at a loss to comprehend. 
A more manly-looking, fine, bold young fellow, I do not 
know ; and he is often as manly and imposing in his opin- 
ions and judgments, as he is to the eye; while, at times, he 
is almost childish in his tastes and propensities. How do 
you account for this, Miss Anneke?” 

“ Simply, that nature intended Guert Ten Eyck for better 
things than accident and education, or the want of educa- 
tion, have enabled him to become. Had Guert Ten Eyck 
been educated at Oxford, he would have been a very different 
man from what he is. If a man has only the instruction 
of a boy, he will long remain a boy.” 

I was surprised at the boldness and decision of this opinion, 
for it was not Anneke’s practice to be so open in delivering 
her sentiments of others ; but, it was not long ere I disco- 
vered that she did not spare Guert, in the presence of her 
friend, from a deep conviction he was not worthy of the 
hold he was sensibly gaining on the feelings of Mary Wal- 
lace. Herman Mordaunt, as I fancied, favoured his daugh- 
ter’s views in this behalf; and there was soon occasion to 
observe that poor Guert had no other ally, in that family, 
than the one his handsome, manly person, open disposition, 
and uncommon frankness had created in his mistress’s own 
bosom. There was certainly a charm in Guert’s habitual 
manner of underrating himself, that inclined all who heard 
him to his side; and, for myself, I will confess I early be- 
came bis friend in all that matter, and so continued to the 
last. 


208 


SATANSTOE. 


Bulstrode and I left the house together, walking arm and 
arm to his quarters, leaving Dirck with the ladies. 

“ This is a charming family,” said my companion, as wo 
left the door ; “ and I feel proud of being able to claim some 
affinity to it, though it is not so near as I trust it may one 
day become.” 

I started, almost twitching my arm away from that of the 
Major’s, turning half round, at the same instant, to look him 
in the face. Bulstrode smiled, but preserved his own self- 
possession, in the stoical manner common to men of fashion 
and easy manners, pursuing the discourse. 

“ I see that my frankness has occasioned you some little 
surprise,” he added ; “ but the truth is the truth ; and I hold 
it to be unmanly for a gentleman who has made up his mind 
to become the suitor of a lady, to make any secret of his 
intentions; — is not that your own way of thinking, Mr. 
Littlepage?” 

“ Certainly, as respects the lady; and possibly, as respects 
her family ; but not as respects all the world.” 

“ I take your distinction, which may be a good one, in 
ordinary cases; though, in the instance of Anneke Mordaunt, 
it may be merciful to let wandering young men, like your- 
self, Corny, comprehend the real state of the case. I very 
well understand your own particular relation to the family 
of the Mordaunts; but others may approach it with different 
and more interested views.” 

“ Am I to understand, Mr. Bulstrode, that Miss Mordaunt 
is your betrothed 7” 

“ Oh ! by no means ; for she has not yet made up her 
mind to accept me. You are to understand, however, that 
I have proposed to Herman Mordaunt, with my father’s 
knowledge and approbation, and that the affair is in petto. 
You can judge for yourself of the probable termination, 
being a better judge, as a looker-on, than I, as a party in- 
terested, of Anneke’s manner of viewing my suit.” 

“You will remember I have not seen you together these 
ten months, until this morning; and I presume you do not 
wish me to suppose you have been waiting all that time for 
an answer.” 

“ As I consider you an ami de famille , Corny, there is 
no reason why there should not be a fair statement of thing* 


S AT A NSTOE. 


209 


laid before yon, for that affair of the lion will ever render 
yon half a JVIordaunt, yourself. I had proposed to Anneke, 
when you first saw me, and got the usual lady-like answer 
that the dear creature was too young to think of contracting 
herself, which was certainly truer then than now; that I 
had friends at home who ought to be consulted, that time 
must be given, or the answer would necessarily be 4 no,’ 
and all the usual substance of such replies, in the prelimi- 
nary state of a negotiation.” 

“ And there the matter has stood ever since?” 

44 By no means, my dear fellow ; as far from that as pos- 
sible. I heard Herman Mordaunt, for he did most of the 
talking on that side, with the patience of a saint, observed 
how proper it all was, and stated my intention to lay every 
thing before my father, and then advance to the assault 
anew, reinforced by his consent, and authority to offer set- 
tlements.” 

44 All of which you got, by return of vessel, on writing 
home?” I added, unable to imagine how any man could 
hesitate about receiving Anneke Mordaunt for a daughter- 
in-law. 

44 Why, not exactly by return of vessel, though Sir Harry 
is much too well-bred to neglect answering a letter. I never 
knew him to do such a thing in his life ; no, not when I 
have pushed him a little closely on the subject of my allow- 
ance having been out before the quarter was up, as will 
sometimes happen at college, you know, Corny. To tell 
you the truth, my dear boy, Sir Harry’s consent did not 
come by return of vessel, though an answer did. It is a 
confounded distance across the Atlantic, and it takes time 
to argue a question, when the parties are 4 a thousand 
leagues asunder.’ ” 

44 Argue ! — What argument could be required to convince 
Sir Harry Bulstrode of the propriety of your getting An- 
neke Mordaunt for a wife, if you could V 

44 Quite plain and sincere, upon my honour ! — But, I love 
you for the simplicity of your character, Corny, and so 
shall view all' favourably. If I could ! Well, we shall 
know at the end of the approaching campaign, when you 
and I come back from our trip to Quebec.” 

18 * 


210 


S AT ANSTOE. 


“ You have not answered my question, in the mean time, 
concerning Sir Harry Bulstrode.” 

“ I beg Sir Harry’s and your pardon. What argument 
could be required to convince my lather ? — Why, you have 
never been at home, Littlepage, and cannot easily under- 
stand, therefore, what the feeling is precisely in relation to 
the colonies — much depends on that, you know.” 

“ I trust the mother loves her children, as I am certain 
the children love their mother.” 

“ Yes, you are all loyal ; — I will say that for you, though 
Albany is not exactly Bath, or New York, Westminster. I 
suppose you know, Littlepage, that the church upon the 
hill, yonder, which is called St. Peter’s, though a very good 
church, and a very respectable church, with a very reputa- 
ble congregation, is not exactly Westminster Abbey, or even 
St. James’s ?” 

“ I believe I understand you, sir ; and so Sir Harry proved 
obstinate?” 

“ As the devil ! — It took no less than three letters, the 
last of which was pretty bold, to get him round, which I did 
at last, and his consent, in due form, has been handed in to 
Herman Mordaunt. I contended, with some advantages in 
the affair, or I never should have prevailed. But, you will 
see how it was. Sir Harry is gouty and asthmatic both, 
and no great things of a life, at the best, and every acre he 
has on earth is entailed, just making the whole thing a ques- 
tion of time.” 

“ All of which you communicated, of course, to Anneke 
and Herman Mordaunt?” 

“ If I did I’ll be hanged ! No, no ; Master Corny, I am 
not so green as that would imply. You provincials are as 
thin-skinned as 7'aisons de Fontauibleau, and are not to be 
touched so rudely. I do not believe Anneke would marry 
the Duke of Norfolk himself, if the family raised the least 
scruple about receiving her.” 

“ And would not Anneke be right, in acting under so re- 
spectable a feeling?” 

“ Why, you know she would only marry the duke, and 
not his mother, and aunts, and uncles. I cannot see the 
necessity of a young woman’s making herself uncomforta- 
ble on that account. But, we have not come to that yet 


a AT ANSTOE. 


211 


for I would wish you to understand, Littlepage, that I am 
not accepted, No, no ! justice to Anneke demands that I 
should say this much. She knows of Sir Harry’s consent, 
however, and that is a good deal in my favour, you must 
allow. I suppose her great objection will be to quitting her 
father, who has no other child, and on him it will bear a 
little hard ; and, then, it is likely she will say something about 
a change of country, for you Americans are all great stick- 
lers for living in your own region.” 

“ I do not see how you can justly accuse us of that, since 
it is universally admitted among us that everything is bet- 
ter at home than it is in the colonies.” 

“ I really think, Corny,” rejoined Bulstrode, smiling good- 
naturedly, “ were you to pay the old island a visit, now, 
you yourself would confess that some things are.” 

“ I to visit ! — I am at a loss to imagine why I am named 
as one disposed to deny it. Had it been Guert Ten Eyck, 
now, or even Dirck Follock, one might imagine such a 
thing; but I, who come from English blood, and who have 
itn English-born grandfather, at this moment, alive and well 
at Satanstoe, am not to be included among the disaitecced 
k; England.” 

Bulstrode pressed my arm, and his conversation took a 
more confidential air, as it proceeded. “ I believe you are 
right, Corny,” he said ; “ the colony is loyal enough, Hea- 
ven knows; yet I find these Dutch look on us red-coats more 
coldly than the people of English blood, below. Should it 
be ascribed to the phlegm of their manners, or to some an- 
cient grudge connected with the conquest of their colony ?” 

“ Hardly the last, I should think, since the colony was 
traded away, under the final arrangement, in exchange for 
a possession the Dutch now hold in South America. There 
is nothing strange, however, in the descendants of the peo- 
ple of Holland preferring the Dutch to the English.” 

“ I assure you, Littlepage, the coldness with which we are 
regarded by the Albanians has been spoken of among us; 
though most of the leading families treat us well, and aid us 
all they can. They should remember that we are here to 
fight their battles, and to prevent the French from overrun- 
ning them.” 

“ To that they would probably answer that the French 


212 


SATANSTOE. 


would not molest them, but for their quarrel with England. 
Here we must part, Mr. Bulstrode, as I have business to 
attend to. 1 will add one word, however, before we separate, 
and that is, that King George II. has not more loyal subjects 
in his dominions, than those who dwell in his American pro- 
vinces.” 

Bulstrode smiled, nodded in assent, waved his hand, and 
we parted. 

I had plenty of occupation for the remainder of that day. 
Yaap arrived with his ‘ brigade of sleighs’ about noon, and 
I went in search of Guert, in whose company I repaired 
once more to the office of the contractor. Horses, harness, 
sleighs, provisions and all were taken at high prices, and I 
was paid for the whole in Spanish gold ; joes and half-joes 
being quite as much in use among us in that day as the 
coin of the realm. Spanish silver has always formed our 
smaller currency, such a thing as an English shilling, or a 
sixpence, being quite a stranger among us. Pieces of 
eight, or dollars, are our commonest coin, it is true, but we 
make good use of the half-joe in all heavy transactions. I 
have seen two or three Bank of England notes in my day, 
but they are of very rare occurrence in the colonies. There 
have been colony bills among us, but they are not favourites, 
most of our transactions being carried on by means of the 
Spanish gold and Spanish silver, that find their way up from 
the islands and the Spanish main. The war of which I am 
now writing, however, brought a great many guineas among 
us, most of the troops being paid in that species of coin ; 
but the contractors, in general, found it easier to command 
the half-joe than the guinea. Of the former, when all our 
sales were made, Dirck and myself had, between us, no * 
less than one hundred and eleven, or eiffiit hundred and 
eighty-eight dollars in value. 

I found Guert just as ready and just as friendly on this 
occasion, as he had been on the previous day. Not only 
were all our effects disposed of, but all our negroes were 
hired to the army for the campaign, Yaap excepted. The 
boys went off with their teams towards the north that same 
afternoon, in high spirits, as ready for a frolic as any 
white youths in the colony. I permitted Yaap to go on 
with his sleigh, to be absent for a few days, but he was to 


SATANSTOE. 213 

return and join us before we proceeded in quest of the 
4 Patent,’ alter the breaking up of the winter. 

It was late in the afternoon before everything was settled, 
when Guert invited me to take a turn with him on the 
river in his own sleigh. By this time I had ascertained that 
my new friend was a young man of very handsome property, 
without father or mother, and that he lived in as good style 
as was common for the simple habits of those around him. 
Our principal families in New York were somewhat remark- 
able for the abundance of their plate, table-linen, and other 
household effects of the latter character, while here and 
there one was to be found that possessed some good pictures. 
The latter, I have reason to think, however, were rare, 
though occasionally the work of a master did find its way 
to America, particularly from Holland and Flanders. Guert 
kept bachelor’s hall, in a respectable house, that had its 
gable to the street, as usual, and which was of no great 
size; but everything about it proved that his old black 
housekeeper had been trained under a regime of thorough 
neatness ; for that matter, everything around Albany wore 
the appearance of being periodically scoured. The streets 
themselves could not undergo that process with snow on the 
ground ; but once beneath a roof, and everything that had 
the character of dirt was banished. In this particular 
Guert’s bachelor residence was as faultless as if it had a 
mistress at its head, and that mistress were Mary Wallace. 

44 If she ever consent to have me,” said Guert, actually 
sighing as he spoke, and glancing his eyes round the very 
pretty little parlour I had just been praising, on the occa-* 
sion of the visit I first made to his residence that afternoon ; 
“ if she ever consent to have me, Corny, I shall have to 
build a new house. This is now a hundred years old, and 
though it was thought a great affair in its day, it is not half 
good enough for Mary Wallace. My dear fellow, how I 
envy you that invitation to breakfast this morning ! what a 
favourite you must be with Herman Mordaunt !” 

“ We are very good friends, Guert,” — for, with the free- 
dom of our colony manners, we had already dropped into 
the familiarity of calling each other 4 Corny’ and 4 Guert’ — 
44 we are very good friends, Guert,” I answered, 44 and, I 
have some reason to think, Herman Mordaunt does not dis- 


8 AT ANSTOE. 


214 

like me. It was in my power to be of a trifling service to 
Miss Anneke, last spring, and the whole family is disposed 
to remember it.” 

“ So I can see, at a glance ; even Anneke remembers it. 
I have heard the whole story from Mary Wallace ; it was 
about a lion. I would give half of what I am worth, to see 
Mary Wallace in the paws of a lion, or any other wild beast ; 
just to let her see that Guert Ten Eyck has a heart, as well 
as Corny Littlepage. But, Corny my boy, there is one 
thing you must do ; you are in such favour, that it will be 
easy for you to effect it ; though I might try in vain, for 
ever.” 

“ I will do anything that is proper, to oblige you, Guert , 
for you have a claim on me for services rendered by your- 
self.” 

“Pshaw! — Say nothing of such matters; I am never 
happier than when buying or selling a horse ; and, in help- 
ing you to get off your old cattle, why, I did the King no 
harm, and you some good. But, it was about horses I was 
thinking. You must know, Littlepage, there is not a young 
man, or an old man, within twenty miles of Albany, that 
drives such a pair of beasts as myself.” 

“ You surely do not wish me to sell these horses to Mary 
Wallace, Guert !” I rejoined, laughing. 

“Ay, my lad ; and this house, and the old farm, and two 
or three stores along the river ; and all I have, provided 
you can sell me with them. As the ladies have no present 
use for horses, however, Herman Mordaunt having brought 
up with him a very good pair, that came near running over 
you and me, Corny ; so there is no need of any sale ; but 
I should like to drive Mary and Anneke a turn of a few 
miles, with that team of mine, and in my own sleigh !” 

“ That cannot prove such a difficult affair ; young ladies, 
ordinarily, consenting readily enough to be diverted with a 
sleigh-ride.” 

“ The off-one carries himself more like a colonel, at the 
head of his regiment, than like an ignorant horse!” 

“ I will propose the matter to Herman Mordaunt, or to 
Anneke, herself, if you desire it.” 

“And the near-one has the movement of a lady in a mi- 


S ATANSTOE. 


215 


jauet,, when you rein him in a little. I drove those cattle t 
Corny, across the pine-plains, to Schenectady, in one hour 
and twenty-six minutes ; — sixteen miles, as the crow flies — ■ 
and nearer sixty, if you follow all the turnings of the fifty 
roads.” 

“ Well, what am I to do? tell this to the ladies, or beg 
them to name a day ?” 

“ Name a day ! — I wish it had come to that, Corny, with 
my whole soul. They are two beauties !” 

“ Yes, I think everybody will admit that” I answered in- 
nocently ; “ yet, very different in their charms.” 

“ Oh ! not a bit more alike than is just necessary for a 
good match. I call one Jack, and the other Moses. I never 
knew an animal that was named ‘Jack,’ who would not do 
his work. I would give a great deal, Corny, that Mary 
Wallace could see that horse move !” 

I promised Guert that I would use all my influence with 
the ladies, to induce them to trust themselves with his team ; 
and, in order that I might speak with authority, the sleigh 
was ordered round to the door forthwith, with a view first to 
take a turn with me. The winter equipage of Guert Ten 
Eyck was really a tasteful and knowing thing. I had often 
seen handsomer sleighs, in the way of paint, varnish, tops 
and mouldings ; for to these he appeared to pay very little 
attention. The points on which its owner most valued his 
sleigh, was the admirable manner in which it rested on its 
runners — pressing lightly both behind and before. Then 
the traces were nearer on a level with the horses, than was 
common; though not so high as to affect the draft. The 
colour, without, was a sky-blue ; a favourite Dutch tint ; 
while within, it was fiery-red. The skins were very ample: 
all coming from the grey wolf. As these skins were lined 
with scarlet cloth, the effect of the whole was sufficiently 
cheering and warm. I ought not to forget the bells. Ia 
addition to the four sets buckled to the harness, the usual 
accompaniment of every sort of sleigh-harness, Guert had 
provided two enormous strings (always leathern straps), that 
passed from the saddles quite down under the bodies of Jack 
and Moses ; and another string around each horse’s neck ; 


216 


SATANST0E. 


thus increasing the jingling music of his march, at least 
fourfold beyond the usual quantity.* 

In this style, then, we dashed from the door of the old 
Ten Eyck-house; all the blacks in the street gazing at us in 
delight, and shaking their sides with laughter — a negro al- 
ways expressing his admiration of anything, even to a ser- 
mon, in that mode. I remember to have heard a traveller 
who had been as far as Niagara, declare that his black did 
nothing but roar with laughter, the first half-hour he stood 
confronted with that mighty cataract. 

Nor did the blacks alone stop to admire Guert Ten Eyck, 
his sleigh and his horses. All the young men in the place 
paid Guert this homage, for he was unanimously admitted 
to be the best whip, and the best judge of horse-flesh, in 
Albany ; that is, the best judge for his years. Several 
young women who were out in sleighs, looked behind them, 
as we passed, proving that the admiration extended even to 
the other sex. All this Guert felt and saw, and its effect 
was very visible in his manner as he stood guiding his 

* As it is possible this book may pass into the hands of others than 
Americans, it may be well to say that a sleigh-bell is a small hollow ball, 
made of bell-metal, having a hole in it that passes round half of its cir- 
cumference, and containing a small solid ball, of a size not to escape. 
These bells are fastened to leathern straps, which commonly pass round 
the necks of the horses. In the time of Guert Ten Eyck, most of the bells 
were attached to small plates, that were buckled to various parts of 
the harness ; but, as this caused a motion annoying to the animals, 
Mr. Littlepage evidently wishes his readers to understand that his 
friend, Ten Eyck, was too knowing to have recourse to the practice. 
Even the straps are coming into disuse, the opinion beginning to 
obtain that sleigh-bells are a nuisance, instead of an advantage. 
Twenty years since, the laws of most large towns rendered them 
necessary, under the pretence of preventing accidents by apprising 
the footman of the approach of a sleigh ; but more horses are now 
driven, in the state of New York, without than with bells, in winter. 

“Sleigh,” as spelt, is purely an American word. It is derived from 
“slee,” in Dutch; which is pronounced like “sleigh.” Some persons 
contend that the Americans ought to use the old English words 
“sled,” or “sledge.” But these words do not precisely express the 
things we possess. There is as much reason for calling a pleasure* 
conveyance by a name different from “sled,” as there is for saying 
“ coach” instead of “ wagon.” “ Sleigh” will become English, ere 
long, as it is now American. Twenty millions of people not only 
can make a word, but they can make a language, if it be needed. — 
Euitor. • 


SATANSTOE 217 

spirited pair, amid the wood sleds tnat still crowded the 
main street. 

Our route lay towards the large fiats, that extend for 
miles along the west shore of the Hudson, to the north of 
Albany. This was the road usually taken by the young 
people of the place, in their evening sleigh-rides ; not a few 
of the better class stopping to pay their respects to Madame 
Schuyler, a widow born of the same family as that into 
which she had married, and who, from her character, con- 
nections and fortune, filled a high place in the social circle 
of the vicinity. Guert knew this lady, and proposed that I 
should call and pay my respects to her — a tribute she was 
accustomed to receive from most strangers of respectability. 
Thither, then, we drove as fast as my companion’s blacks 
could carry us. The distance was only a few miles, and 
we were soon dashing through the open gate, into what 
must have been a very pretty, though an inartificial, lawn, 
in the summer. 

“ By Jove, we are in luck !” cried Guert, the moment his 
eyes got a view of the stables : “ Yonder is Herman Mor- 
daunt’s sleigh, and we shall find the ladies here !” 

All this turned out as Guert had announced. Anneke 
and Mary Wallace had dined with Madame Schuyler, and 
their coats and shawls had just been brought to them, pre- 
paratory to returning home, as we entered. I had heard so 
much of Madame Schuyler as not to approach this respect- 
able person without awe, and I had no eyes at first for her 
companions. I was well received by the mistress of the 
house, a woman of so large a size as to rise from her chair 
with great difficulty, but whose countenance expressed 
equally intelligence, principles, refinement and benevolence. 
She no sooner heard the name of Littlepage, than she threw 
a meaning glance towards the young female friends, mine 
following and perceiving Anneke colouring highly, and 
looking a little distressed. As for Mary Wallace she ap 
peared to me then, as I fancied was usually the case when- 
ever Guert Ten Eyck approached her, to be struggling with 
a species of melancholy pleasure. 

“ It is unnecessary for me to hear your mother’s name, 
Mr. Littlepage,” said Madam Schuyler, extendirg a hand, 
“ since f knew her as a young woman. In her name you 
0 


218 


S AT ANSTOE 


are welcome ; as, indeed, you would be in your own, aflet 
the all-important service 1 hear you have rendered my 
sweet young friend, here.” 

I could only bow, and express my thanks ; but it is un- 
necessary to say how grateful to me was praise of this sort, 
coming, as I knew it must, from Anneke in the first instance. 
Still, I could hardly refrain from laughing at Guert, who 
shrugged his shoulders, and turned towards me with a look 
that repeated his ludicrous regrets he could not see Mary 
Wallace in a lion’s paws! The conversation then took the 
usual turn, and I got an opportunity of speaking to the 
young ladies. 

After the character I had heard of Madam Schuyler, ] 
was a good deal surprised to find that Guert was somewhat 
of a favourite. But even the most intellectual and refined 
women, I have since had occasion to learn, feel a disposition 
to judge handsome, manly, frank, flighty fellows like my 
new acquaintance, somewhat leniently. With all his levity, 
and his disposition to run into the excesses of animal spirits, 
there was that about Guert which rendered it difficult to 
despise him. The courage of a lion was in his eye, and his 
front and bearing were precisely those that are particularly 
attractive to women. To these advantages were added a 
seeming unconsciousness of his superiority to most around 
him, in the way of looks, and a humility of spirit that 
caused him often to deplore his deficiencies in those accom- 
plishments which characterize the man of study and of in- 
tellectual activity. It was only among the hardy, active, 
and reckless, that Guert manifested the least ambition to be 
a leader. 

“Do you still drive those spirited blacks, Guert,” de- 
manded Madam Schuyler, in a gentle, affable way, that in- 
clined her to adapt her discourse to the tastes of those she 
might happen to be with ; “ those, I mean, which you pur- 
chased in the autumn?” 

“You may be certain of that, aunt,” — every one who 
could claim the most distant relationship to this amiable 
woman, and whose years did not render the appellation dis- 
respectful, called her “aunt” — “you may be certain of that, 
aunt, for their equals are not to be found in this colony. 
The gentlemen of the army pretend that no horse can be 


S AT ANSTOE . 


219 

good that has not what they call blood ; but Jack and 
Moses are both of the Dutch breed, and the Schuylers and 
the Ten Eycks will never own there is no “ blood” in such 
a stock. I have given each of these animals my own name, 
and call them Jack Ten Eyck and Moses Ten Eyck.” 

“ I hope you will not exclude the Littlepages and the 
Mordaunts from your list of dissenters, Mr. Ten Eyck, 5 
observed Anneke, laughing, “ since both have Dutch blood 
in their veins, too.” 

“ Very true, Miss Anneke ; Miss Wallace being the only 
true, thorough, Englishwoman here. But, as Aunt Schuy- 
ler has spoken of my team, I wish I could persuade you and 
Miss Mary to let me drive you back to Albany with it, this 
very evening. Your own sleigh can follow ; and your 
father’s horses being English, we shall have an opportunity 
of comparing the two breeds. The Anglo-Saxons will have 
no load, while the Flemings will ; still I will wager animal 
against animal, that the last do the work the most neatly, 
and in the shortest time.” 

To this proposition, however, Anneke would not consent ,* 
her instinctive delicacy, I make no doubt, at once presenting 
to her mind the impropriety of quitting her own sleigh, to 
take an evening’s drive in that of a young man of Guert’s 
established reputation for recklessness and fun, and who 
was not always fortunate enough to persuade young women 
of the first class to be his companions. The turn the con- 
versation had taken, nevertheless, had the effect to produce 
so many urgent appeals, that were seconded by myself, to 
give the horses a trial, that Mary Wallace promised to sub- 
mit the matter to Herman Mordaunt, and, should he ap- 
prove, to accompany Guert, Anneke and myself, in an ex- 
cursion the succeeding week. 

This concession was received by poor Guert with pro- 
found gratitude ; and he assured me, as we drove back to 
town, that he had not felt so happy for the last two months. 

“ It is in the power of such a young woman — young 
angel, I might better say,” added Guert, “ to make any- 
thing she may please of me ! I know I am an idler, and 
too fond of our Dutch amusements, and that I have not paid 
the attention I ought to have paid to books ; but let that pre- 
cious creature only take me by the hand, and I should turn 


S AT AN STOE . 


220 

out an altered man in a month. Young women can do 
anything they please with us, Mr. Littlepage, when they 
set their minds about it in earnest. I wish I was a horse, 
to have the pleasure of dragging Mary Wallace in this ex- 
cursion !” 


CHAPTER XV. 

“ When lo ! the voice of loud alarm 
His inmost soul appals : 

What ho ! Lord William, rise in haste ! 

The water saps thy walls !” 

Lord William. 

The visit to Madam Schuyler occurred of a Saturday 
evening ; and the matter of our adventure in company with 
Jack and Moses, was to be decided on the following Monday. 
When I rose and looked out of my window on the Sunday 
morning, however, there appeared but very little prospect 
of its being effected that spring, inasmuch as it rained hea- 
vily, and there was a fresh south wind. We had reached 
the 21st of March, a period of the year when a decided 
thaw was not only ominous to the sleighing, but when it 
actually predicted a permanent breaking up of the winter. 
The season had been late, and it was thought the change 
could not be distant. 

The rain and south wind continued all that day, and tor- 
rents of water came rushing down the short, steep streets, 
effectually washing away everything like snow. Mr. Wor- 
den preached, notwithstanding, and to a very respectable 
congregation. Dirck and myself attended ; but Jason pre- 
ferred sitting out a double half-hour glass sermon in the Dutch 
church, delivered in a language of which he understood 
very little, to lending his countenance to the rites of the 
English service. Both Anneke and Mary Wallace found 
their way up the hill, going in a carriage ; though I observed 
that Herman Mordaunt was absent. Guert was in the gaU 


8 AT ANSTOE. 


221 


lery, in which we also sat ; but I could not avoid remarking 
that neither of the young ladies raised her eyes once, during 
the whole service, as high as our pews. Guert whispered 
something about this, as he hastened down stairs to hand 
them to their carriage, when the congregation was dismissed, 
begging me, at the same time, to be punctual to the appoint- 
ment for the next day. What he meant by this last remem- 
brancer, I did not understand ; for the hills were beginning 
to exhibit their bare breasts, and it was somewhat surprising 
with what rapidity a rather unusual amount of snow had 
disappeared. I had no opportunity to ask an explanation, 
as Guert was too busy in placing the ladies in the carriage, 
and the weather was not such as to admit of my remaining 
a moment longer in the street than was indispensably ne- 
cessary. 

A change occurred in the weather during the night, the 
rain having ceased, though the atmosphere continued mild, 
and the wind was still from the south. It was the com- 
mencement of the spring ; and, as I walked round to Guert 
Ten Eyck’s house, to meet him at breakfast, I observed that 
several vehicles with wheels were already in motion in the 
streets, and that divers persons appeared to be putting away 
their sleighs and sleds, as things of no further use, until the 
next winter. Our springs do not certainly come upon us as 
suddenly as some of which I have read, in the old world ; 
but when the snow and winter endure as far into March as 
had been the case with that of the year 1758, the change is 
often nearly magical. 

“ Here, then, is the spring opening,” I said to Dirck, as 
we walked along the well-washed streets ; “ and, in a few 
weeks, we must be off to the bush. Our business on the 
Patent must be got along with, before the troops are put in 
motion, or we may lose the opportunity of seeing a cam- 
paign.” 

With such expectations and feelings I entered Guert’a 
bachelor abode ; and the first words I uttered, were to sym- 
pathize in his supposed disappointment. 

“ It is a great pity you did not propose the drive to the 
ladies for Saturday,” I began ; “ for that was not only a 
mild day, but the sleighing was excellent. As it is, you will 
have to postpone your triumph until next winter.” 

19 * 


222 


S AT ANSTOE. 


“ I do not understand you !” cried Guert; Jack and Moses 
never were in better heart, or in better condition. I think 
they are equal to going to Kinderhook in two hours !” 

“ But who will furnish the roads with snow ? By looking 
out of the window, you will see that the streets are nearly 
bare.” 

“ Streets and roads ! Who cares for either, while wo 
have the river? We often use the river here, weeks at a 
time, when the snow has left us. The ice has been remark- 
ably even the whole of this winter, and, now the snow is off 
it, there will be no danger from the air-holes.” 

I confess I did not much like the notion of travelling 
twenty miles on the ice, but was far too much of a man to 
offer any objections. 

We breakfasted, and proceeded in a body to the residence 
of Herman Mordaunt. When the ladies first heard that we 
had come to claim the redemption of the half-promise given 
at Madam Schuyler’s, their surprise was not less than mine 
had been, half an hour before, while their uneasiness was 
probably greater. 

“ Surely, Jack and Moses cannot exhibit all their noble 
qualities without snow !” exclaimed Anneke, laughing, “ Ten 
Eycks though they be !” 

“We Albanians have the advantage of travelling on the 
ice, when the the snow fails us,” answered Guert. “ Here 
is the river, near by, and never was the sleighing on it, better 
than at this moment.” 

“But, it has been many times safer, I should think. 
This looks very much like the breaking up of winter !” 

“ That is probable enough, and so much greater the rea- 
son why we should not delay, if you and Miss Mary ever 
intend to learn what the blacks can do. It is for the honour 
of Holland that I desire it, else would I not presume so far. 
I feel every condescension of this sort, that I receive from 
you two ladies, in a way I cannot express ; for no one 
Knows, better than myself, how unworthy I am of your 
smallest notice.” 

This brought the signs of yielding, at once, into the mild 
countenance of Mary Wallace. Guert’s self-humiliation 
never failed to do this. There was so much obvious truth 
in his admission, so sincere a disposition to place himself 


SAT ANSTOE. 


223 

where nature and education, or a want of education had 
placed him, and most of all so profound a deference for the 
mental superiority of Mary herself, that the female heart 
found it impossible to resist. To my surprise, Guert’s mis- 
tress, contrary to her habit in such things, was the first to 
join him, and to second his proposal. Herman Mordaunt 
entering the room at this instant, the whole thing was re- 
ferred to him, as in reason it ought to have been. 

“ I remember to have travelled on the Hudson, a few 
years since,” returned Herman Mordaunt, “ the entire dis- 
tance between Albany and Sing-Sing, and a very good time 
we had of it ; much better than had we gone by land, for 
there was little or no snow.” 

“ Just our case now, Miss Anneke !” cried Guert. “ Good 
sleighing on the river, but none on the land.” 

“ Was that near the end of March, dear Papa?” asked 
Anneke, a little inquiringly. 

“ No, certainly not, for it was early in February. But 
the ice, at this moment, must be near eighteen inches thick, 
and strong enough to bear a load of hay.” 

“ Yes, Masser Herman,” observed Cato, a grey-headed 
black, who had never called his master by any other name, 
having known him from an infant; “ yes, Masser Herman, 
a load do come over dis minute.” 

It appeared unreasonable to distrust the strength of the 
ice, after this proof to the contrary, and Anneke submitted. 
The party was arranged forthwith, and in the following 
manner : — The two ladies, Guert and myself, were to be 
drawn by the blacks, while Herman Mordaunt, Dirck, and 
any one else they could enlist, were to follow in the New 
York sleigh. It was hoped that an elderly female connec- 
tion, Mrs. Bogart, who resided at Albany, would consent to 
be of the party, as the plan was to visit and dine with an- 
other and a mutual connection of the Mordaunts, at Kinder- 
hook. While the sleighs were getting ready, Herman Mor- 
daunt walked round to the house of Mrs. Bogart, made his 
request, and was successful. 

The clock in the tower of the English church struck ten, 
as both sleighs drove from Herman Mordaunfs door. There 
was literally no snow in the middle of the streets ; but enough 
of it, mingled with ice, was still to be found nearer the 


224 


SATANSTOE. 


houses, to enable us to get down to the ferry, the point 
where sleighs usually went upon the river. Here Herman 
Mordaunt, who was in advance, checked his horses, and 
turned to speak to Guert on the propriety of proceed- 
ing. The ice near the shore had evidently been moved, 
the river having risen a foot or two, in consequence of the 
wind and the thaw, and there was a sort of icy wave cast 
up near the land, over which it was indispensable to pass, 
in order to get fairly on the river. As the top of this ridge, 
or wave, was broken, it exposed a fissure that enabled us 
to see the thickness of the ice, and this Guert pointed out in 
proof of its strength. There was nothing unusual in a small 
movement of the covering of the river, which the current 
often produces ; but, unless the vast fields below got in mo- 
tion, it was impossible for those above materially to change 
their positions. Sleighs were passing, too, still bringing to 
town, hay from the flats on the eastern bank, and there was 
no longer any hesitation. Herman Mordaunt’s sleigh passed 
slowly over the ridge, having a care to the legs of the horses, 
and ours followed in the same cautious manner, though the 
blacks jumped across the fissure in spite of their master’s 
exertions. 

Once on the river, however, Guert gave his blacks the 
whip and rein, and away we went like the wind. The 
smooth, icy surface of the Hudson was our road, the thaw 
having left very few traces of any track. The water had 
all passed beneath the ice, through cracks and fissures of 
one sort and another, leaving us an even, dry, surface to 
trot on. The wind was still southerly, though scarcely 
warm, while a bright sun contributed to render our excur- 
sion as gay to the eye, as it certainly was to our feelings. 
In a few minutes every trace of uneasiness had vanished. 
Away we went, the blacks doing full credit to their owner’s 
boasts, seeming scarcely to touch the ice, from which their 
feet appeared to rebound with a sort of elastic force. Her- 
man Mordaunt’s bays followed on our heels, and the sleighs 
had passed over the well-known shoal of the Overslaugh, 
within the first twenty minutes after they touched the river. 

Every northern American is familiar with the effect that 
the motion of a sleigh produces on the spirits, under favour- 
able circumstances. Had our party been altogether com- 


S AT ANSTOE. 


225 


posed of Albanians, there would probably have been no 
drawback on the enjoyment, for use would have prevented 
apprehension ; but it required the few minutes I have men- 
tioned to give Anneke and Mary Wallace full confidence in 
the ice. By the time we reached the Overslaugh, however, 
their fears had vanished ; and Guert confirmed their sense 
of security, by telling them to listen to the sounds produced 
by his horses’ hoofs, which certainly conveyed the impres- 
sion of moving on a solid foundation. 

Mary Wallace had never before been so gay in my pre- 
sence, as she appeared to be that morning. Once, or twice, 
I fancied her eyes almost as bright as those of Anneke’s, 
and certainly her laugh was as sweet and musical. Both 
the girls were full of spirits, and some little things occurred 
that gave me hopes Bulstrode had no reason to fancy him- 
self as secure, as he sometimes seemed to be. A casual 
remark of Guert’s had the effect to bring out some of An- 
neke’s private sentiments on the subject ; or, at least, so 
they appeared to be to me. 

“ I am surprised that Mr. Mordaunt forgot to invite Mr. 
Bulstrode to be one of our party, to-day,” cried Guert, when 
we were below the Overslaugh. “ The Major loves sleigh- 
ing, and he would have filled the fourth seat, in the other 
sleigh, very agreeably. As for coming into this, that would 
be refused him, were he even a general !” 

“ Mr. Bulstrode is English,” answered Anneke, with spirit, 
“ and fancies American amusements beneath the tastes of 
one who has been presented at the Court of St. James.” 

“ Well, Miss Anneke, I cannot say that I agree with you 
at all, in this opinion of Mr. Bulstrode,” Guert returned, 
innocently. “ It is true, he is English ; that he fancies 
an advantage, as does Corny Littlepage, here ; but we must 
make proper allowances for home-love and foreign-dis- 
like.” 

“ ‘ Corny Littlepage, here,’ is only half English, and that 
half is colony-born and Golony-bred,” answered the laugh- 
ing girl, “ and he has loved a sleigh from the time when he 
first slid down hill ” 

“ Ah ! Miss Anneke — let me entreat ■* 

“Oh! no allusion is intended to the Dutch church and 
its neighbourhood ; — but, the sports of childhood are always 


226 


S ATANSTOE. 


dear to us, as are sometimes the discomforts. Habit and 
prejudice are sister hand-maidens ; and I never see one of 
these gentlemen from home, taking extraordinary interest 
in any of our peculiarly colony usages, but I distrusted an 
extra amount of complaisance, or a sort of enjoyment in 
which we do not strictly share.” 

“ Is this altogether liberal to Bulstrode, Miss Annekc,” I 
ventured to put in ; “ he seems to like us, and I am sure he 
has good reason so to do. That he likes some of us, is too 
apparent to be concealed or denied.” 

“ Mr. Bulstrode is a skilful actor, as all who saw his Cato 
must be aware,” retorted the charming girl, compressing 
her pouting lips in a way that seemed to me to be inexpres- 
sibly pleasing ; “ and those who saw his Scrub must be 
equally convinced of the versatility of his talents. No, no ; 
Major Bulstrode is better where he is, or will be to-day, at 

four o’clock — at the head of the mess of the th, instead 

of dining in a snug Dutch parlour, with my cousin, worthy 
Mrs. van der Heyden, at a dinner got up with colony hos- 
pitality, and colony good-will, and colony plainness. The 
entertainment we shall receive to-day, sweetened, as it will 
be, by the welcome which will come from the heart, can 
have no competitor in countries where a messenger must be 
sent two days before the visit, to ask permission to come, in 
order to escape cold looks and artificial surprise. I would 
prefer surprising my friends from the heart, instead of from 
the head.” 

Guert expressed his astonishment that any one should not 
always be glad and willing to receive his friends ; and in- 
sisted on it, that no such inhospitable customs could exist. 
I knew, however, that society could not exist on the same 
terms, in old and in new countries — among a people that 
was pressed upon by numbers, and a people that had not 
yet felt the evils of a superabundant population. Americans 
are like dwellers in the country, who are always glad to see 
their friends ; and I ventured to say something of the causes 
of these differences in habits. 

Nothing occurred worthy of being dwelt on, in our ride 
to Kinderhook. Mrs. Van der Heyden resided at a short 
distance from theriver, and the blacks and the bays had 
some little difficulty in dragging us through the mud to her 


SAT ANSTOE. 


227 


door. Once there, however, our welcome fully verified the 
theory of the colony habits, which had been talked over in 
our drive down. Anneke’s worthy connection was not only 
glad to see her, as anybody might have been, but she would 
have been glad to receive as many as her house would hold. 
Few excuses were necessary, for we were all welcome. 
The visit would retard her dinner an hour, as was frankly 
admitted — but that was nothing ; and cakes and wine were 
set before us in the interval, did we feel hungry in conse- 
quence of a two hours’ ride. Guert was desired to make 
free, and go to the stables to give his own orders. In a 
word, our reception was just that which every colonist has 
experienced, when he has gone unexpectedly to visit a friend, 
or a friend’s friend. Our dinner was excellent, though not 
accompanied by much form. The wine was good; Mrs. 
van der Heyden’s deceased husband having been a judge 
of what was desirable in that respect. Everybody was in 
good-humour ; and our hostess insisted on giving us coffee 
before we took our departure. 

u There will be a moon, cousin Herman,” she said, “ and 
the night will be both light and pleasant. Guert knows the 
road, which cannot well be missed, as it is the river; and 
if you quit me at eight, you will reach home in good season 
to go to rest. It is so seldom I see you, that I have a right 
to claim every minute you can spare. There remains much 
to be told concerning our old friends and mutual relatives.” 

When such words are accompanied by looks and acts 
that prove their sincerity, it is not easy to tear ourselves 
away from a pleasant house. We chatted on, laughed, 
listened to stories and colony anecdotes that carried us back 
to the last war, and heard a great many eulogiums on beaux 
and belles, that we young people had, all our lives, consi- 
dered as respectable, elderly, common-place sort of persons. 

At length the hour arrived when even Mrs. Bogart her- 
self admitted we ought to part. Anneke and Mary were 
kissed, enveloped in their furs, and kissed again, and then 
we took our leave. As we left the house, I remarked that a 
clock in the passage struck eight. In a few minutes every 
one was placed, and the runners were striking fire from the 
flints of the bare ground. We had less difficulty in de- 
scending than in ascending the bank of the river, though 


8 AT ANSTOE. 


228 

there was no snow. It did not absolutely freeze, nor had it 
actually frozen since the commencement of the thaw, but 
the earth had stiffened since the disappearance of the sun. 
I was much rejoiced when the blacks sprang upon the ice, 
and whirled us away, on our return road, at a rate even 
exceeding the speed with which they had come down it in 
the morning. I thought it high time we should be in motion 
on our return ; and in motion we were, if flying at the rate 
of eleven miles in the hour could thus be termed. 

The light of the moon was not clear and bright, for there 
was a haze in the atmosphere, as is apt to occur in the mild 
weather of March ; but there was enough to enable Guert 
to dash ahead with as great a velocity as was at all desira- 
ble. We were all in high spirits; us two young men so 
much the more, because each of us fancied he had seen that 
day evidence of a tender interest existing in the heart of his 
mistress towards himself. Mary Wallace had managed, 
with a woman’s tact, to make her suitor appear even re- 
spectable in female society, and had brought out in him 
many sentiments that denoted a generous disposition and a 
manly heart, if not a cultivated intellect ; and Guert was 
getting confidence, and with it the means of giving his capa- 
city fairer play. As for Anneke, she now knew my aim, 
and I had some right to construe several little symptoms of 
feeling, that escaped her in the course of the day, favour- 
ably. I fancied that, gentle as it always was, her voice 
grew softer, and her smile sweeter and more winning, as 
she addressed herself to, or smiled on me ; and she did just 
enough of both not to appear distant, and just little enough 
to appear conscious ; at least such were the conjectures of 
one who I do not think could be properly accused of too 
much confidence, and whose natural diffidence was much 
increased by the self-distrust of the purest love. 

Away we went, Guert’s complicated chimes of bells 
jingling their merry notes in a manner to be heard half a 
mile, the horses bearing hard on the bits, for they knew that 
their own stables lay at the end of their journey, and Her- 
man Mordaunt’s bays keeping so near us that, notwithstand- 
ing the noise we made with our own bells, the sounds of 
his were constantly in our ears. An hour went swiftly by, 

d we had already passed Coejeman’s, and had a hamlet 


SAT ANSTOE. 


229 


that stretched along the strand, and which lay quite beneath 
the high bank of the river, in dim distant view. This place 
has since been known by the name of Monkey Town, and 
is a little remarkable as being the first cluster of houses on 
the shores of the Hudson after quitting Albany. I dare 
say it has another name in law, but Guert gave it the appel- 
lation I have mentioned. 

I have said that the night had a sombre, misty, light, the 
moon wading across the heavens through a deep but thin 
ocean of vapour. We saw the shores plainly enough, and 
we saw the houses and trees, but it was difficult to distin- 
guish smaller objects at any distance. In the course of the 
day twenty sleighs had been met or passed, but at that hour 
everybody but ourselves appeared to have deserted the river. 
It was getting late for the simple habits of those who dwelt 
on its shores. When about half-way between the islands 
opposite to Coejeman’s and the hamlet just named, Guert, 
who stood erect to drive, told us that some one who was 
out late, like themselves, was coming down. The horses 
of the strangers were in a very fast trot, and the sleigh 
was evidently inclining towards the west shore, as if those 
it held intended to land at no great distance. As it passed, 
quite swiftly, a man’s voice called out something on a high 
key, but our bells made so much noise that it was not easy 
to understand him. He spoke in Dutch, too, and none of 
our ears, those of Guert excepted, were sufficiently expert 
in that language to be particularly quick in comprehending 
what he said. The call passed unheeded, then, such things 
being quite frequent among the Dutch, who seldom passed 
each other on the highway without a greeting of some sort 
or other. I was thinking o’ this practice, and of the points 
that distinguished our own habits from those of the people 
of this part of the colony, when sleigh-bells sounded quite 
near me, and turning my head, I saw Herman Mordaunt’s 
bays galloping close to us, as if wishing to get alongside. 
At the next moment the object was effected, and Guert 
pulled up. 

“ Did you understand the man who passed down, Guert?” 
demanded Herman Mordaunt, as soon as all noises ceased. 
“ He called out to us, at the top of his voice, and would 
hardly do that without an object.” 

20 


230 


SAT ANSTOE . 


“ These men seldom go home, after a visit to Albany, 
without filling their jugs,” answered Guert, drily ; “ what 
could he have to say, more than to wish us good-night ?” 

“ I cannot tell, but Mrs. Bogart thought she understood 
something about ‘Albany,’ and ‘ the river.’ ” 

“ The ladies always fancy Albany is to sink into the 
river after a great thaw,” answered Guert, good-humoured- 
ly ; “ but I can show either of them that the ice is sixteen 
inches thick, here where we stand.” 

Guert then gave me the reins, stepped out of the sleigh, 
went a short distance to a large crack that he had seen 
while speaking, and returned with a thumb placed on the 
handle of the whip, as a measure to show that his statement 
was true. The ice, at that spot, was certainly nearer eigh- 
teen than sixteen inches thick. Herman Mordaunt showed 
the measure to Mrs. Bogart, whose alarm was pacified by 
this positive proof. Neither Anneke nor Mary exhibited 
any fear ; but, on the contrary, as the sleighs separated 
again, each had something pleasant, but feminine, to say at 
the expense of poor Mrs. Bogart’s imagination. 

I believe I was the only person in our own sleigh who felt 
any alarm, after the occurrence of this little incident. Why 
uneasiness beset me , I cannot precisely say. It must have 
been altogether on Anneke’s account, and not in the least 
on my own. Such accidents as sleighs breaking through, 
on our New York lakes and rivers, happened almost every 
winter, and horses were often drowned ; though it was sel- 
dom the consequences proved so serious to their owners. 
I recalled to mind the fragile nature of ice, the necessary 
effects of the great thaw and the heavy rains, remembering 
that frozen water might still retain most of its apparent 
thickness, after its consistency was greatly impaired. But, 
I could do nothing ! If we landed, the roads were impassa- 
ble for runners, almost for wheels, and another hour might 
carry the ladies, by means of the river, to their comfortable 
homes. That day, however, which, down to the moment 
of meeting the unknown sleigh, had been the very happiest 
of my life, was entirely changed in its aspect, and I no 
longer regarded it with any satisfaction. Had Anneke been 
at home, I could gladly have entered into a contract to pass 


8 AT AN STOE. 


231 

a tveek on the river myself, as the condition of her safety, 
I thought but little of the others, to my shame be it said, 
though I cannot do myself the injustice to imagine, had 
Anneke been away, that I would have deserted even a 
horse, while there was a hope of saving him. 

Away we went ! Guert drove rapidly, but he drove with 
judgment, and it seemed as if his blacks knew what was 
expected of them. It was not long before we were trotting 
past the hamlet I have mentioned. It would seem that the 
bells of the two sleighs attracted the attention of the people 
on the shore, all of whom had not yet gone to bed ; for the 
door of a house opened, and two men issued out of it, gazing 
at us as we trotted past at a pace that defied pursuit. These 
men also hallooed to us, in Dutch, and again Herman Mor- 
daunt galloped up alongside, to speak to us. 

“ Did you understand these men ?” he called out, for this 
time Guert did not see fit to stop his horses ,* “ they, too, 
had something to tell us.” 

“ These people always have something to tell an Albany 
sleigh, Mr. Mordaunt,” answered Guert j “ though it is not 
often that which it would do any good to hear.” 

“ But Mrs. Bogart thinks they also had something to say 
about 1 Albany,’ and the ‘ river.’ ” 

“ I understand Dutch as well as excellent Mrs. Bogart,” 
said Guert, a little drily ; “ and I heard nothing ; while I 
fancy I understand the river better. This ice would bear a 
dozen loads of hay, in a close line.” 

This again satisfied Herman Mordaunt and the ladies, but 
it did not satisfy me. Our own bells made four times the 
noiise of those of Herman Mordaunt ; and it was very pos- 
sible that one, who understood Dutch perfectly, might com- 
prehend a call in that language, while seated in his own 
sleigh, when the same call could not be comprehended by 
the same person, while seated in Guert’s. There was no 
pause, however ; on we trotted ; and another mile was passed, 
before any new occurrence attracted attention. 

The laugh was again heard among us, for Mary Wallace 
consented to sing an air, that was rendered somewhat ludi- 
crous by the accompaniment of the bells. This song, or 


S AT ANSTOE. 


232 

verse or two, for the singer got no further on account of the 
interruption, had drawn Guert’s and my attention behind us, 
or away from the horses, when a whirling sound was heard, 
followed immediately by a loud shout. A sleigh passed 
within ten yards of us, going down, and the whirling sound 
was caused by its runners, while the shout came from a 
solitary man, who stood erect, waving his whip and calling 
to us in a loud voice, as long as he could be heard. This 
was but for a moment, however, as his horses were on the 
run ; and the last we could see of the man, through the 
misty moon-light, he had turned his whip on his team, to 
urge it ahead still faster. In an instant, Herman Mordaunt 
was at our side, for the third time that night, and he called 
out to us somewhat authoritatively to stop. 

“ What can all this mean, Guert ?” he asked. “ Three 
times have we had warnings about ‘Albany’ and the ‘ river.’ 
I heard this man myself utter those two words, and cannot 
be mistaken.” 

“ I dare say, sir, that you may have heard something of 
the sort,” answered the still incredulous Guert ; “ for these 
chaps have generally some impertinence to utter, when they 
pass a team that is better than their own. These blacks of 
mine, Herman Mordaunt, awaken a good deal of envy, 
whenever I go out with them ; and a Dutchman will forgive 
you any other superiority, sooner than he will overlook 
your having the best team. That last man had a spur in 
his head, moreover, and is driving his cattle, at this moment, 
more like a spook than like a humane and rational being. I 
dare say he asked if we owned Albany and the river.” 

Guert’s allusion to his horses occasioned a general laugh; 
and laughter is little favourable to cool reflection. We all 
looked out on the solemn and silent night, cast our eyes 
along the wide and long reach of the river, in which we 
happened to be, and saw nothihg but the calm of nature, 
rendered imposing by solitude and the stillness of the hour. 
Guert smilingly renewed his assurances that all was right, 
and moved on. Away we went ! Guert evidently pressed 
his horses, as if desirous of being placed beyond this anxiety 
as soon as possible. The blacks flew, rather than trotted ; 
and we were all beginning to submit to the exhilaration of 


S AT ANSTOE. 


233 


so rapid and easy a motion, when a sound which resembled 
that which one migi.it suppose the simultaneous explosion of 
a thousand rifles would produce, was hqard, and caused both 
drivers to pull up; the sleighs stopping quite near each other, 
and at the same instant 1 A slight exclamation escaped old 
Mrs. Bogart ; but Anneke and Mary remained still as death. 

“ What means that sound, Guert?” inquired Herman 
Mordaunt ; the concern he felt being betrayed by the very 
tone of his voice. “ Something seems wrong !” 

“ Something is wrong,” answered Guert, coolly, but very 
decidedly ; “ and it is something that must be seen to.” 

As this was said, Guert stepped out on the ice, which he 
struck a hard blow with the heel of his boot, as if to make 
certain of its solidity. A second report was heard, and it 
evidently came from behind us. Guert gazed intently down 
the river ; then he laid his head close to the surface of the 
ice, and looked again. At the same time, three or four more 
of these startling reports followed each other in quick suc- 
cession. Guert instantly rose to his feet. 

“ I understand it, now,” he said, “ and find I have been 
rather too confident. The ice, however, is safe and strong, 
and we have nothing to fear from its weakness. Perhaps 
it would be better to quit the river notwithstanding, though 
I am far from certain the better course will not be t<* 
push on.” 

“ Let us know the danger at once, Mr. Ten Eyck,” said 
Herman Mordaunt, “ that we may decide for the best.” 

“ Why, sir, I am afraid that the rains and the thaw to- 
gether, have thrown so much water into the river, all at 
once, as it might be, as to have raised the ice and broken it 
loose, in spots, from the shores. When this happens abovc } 
before the ice has disappeared below, it sometimes causes 
dams to form, which heap up such a weight as to break the 
whole plain of ice far below it, and thus throw cakes over 
cakes until walls twenty or thirty feet high are formed. 
This has not happened yet , therefore there is no immediate 
danger ; but by bending your heads low, you can see that 
such a break has just taken place about half a mile below 


20* 


234 


SATAN STOE 


We did as Guert directed, and saw that a mound had 
arisen across the river nearer than the distance named by 
our companion, completely cutting off retreat by the way 
we had come. The bank on the west side of the Hudsoi* 
was high at the point where we were, and looking intensely 
at it, I saw by the manner in which the trees disappeared, 
the more distant behind those that were nearer, that we were 
actually in motion ! An involuntary exclamation caused 
the whole party to comprehend this startling fact at the same 
instant. We were certainly in motion, though very slowly, 
on the ice of that swollen river, in the quiet and solitude of 
a night in which the moon rather aided in making danger 
apparent than in assisting us to avoid it ! What was to be 
done ? It was necessary to decide, and that promptly and 
intelligently. 

We waited for Herman Mordaunt to advise us, but he 
referred the matter at once to Guert’s greater experience. 

“ We cannot land here,” answered the young man, “ so 
long as the ice is in motion, and I think it better to push on. 
Every foot will bring us so much nearer to Albany, and we 
shall get among the islands a mile or two higher, where the 
chances of landing will be greatly increased. Besides, I 
have often crossed the river on a cake, for they frequently 
stop, and I have known even loaded sleighs profit by them 
to get over the river. As yet there is nothing very 
alarming ; — let us push on, and get nearer to the islands.” 

This, then, was done, though there was no longer heard 
the laugh or the song among us. I could see that Herman 
Mordaunt was uneasy about Anneke, though he could not 
bring her into his own sleigh, leaving Mary Wallace alone; 
neither could he abandon his respectable connection, Mrs. 
Bogart. Before we re-entered the sleighs, I took an occa- 
sion to assure him that Anneke should be my especial care. 

“God bless you, Corny, my dear boy,” Herman Mor- 
daunt answered, squeezing my hand with fervour. “ God 
bless you, and enable you to protect her. I was about to 
ask you to change seats with me; but, on the whole, I think 
my child will be safer with you than she could be with me. 
We will await God’s pleasure as accident has placed us.” 


8ATANST0E. 235 

' . 7 J-> f *{• / ,, ...... 

“ I will desert her only with life, Mr. Mordaunt. Be at 
ease on that subject.” 

“ I know you will not — I am sure you will not, Little- 
page ; that affair of the lion is a pledge that you will not. 
Had Bulstrode come, we should have been strong enough 

to but Guert is impatient to be off. God bless you, boy 

— God bless you. Do not neglect my child.” 

Guert was impatient, and no sooner was I in the sleigh 
than we were once more in rapid motion. I said a few 
words to encourage the girls, and then no sound of a human 
voice mingled with the gloomy scene. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


He started up, each limb convulsed 
With agonizing fear, 

He only heard the storm of night — 

’T was music to his ear. 

Lord William. 

Away we went ! Guert’s aim was the islands, which 
carried him nearer home, while it offered a place of retreat, 
in the event of the danger’s becoming more serious. The 
fierce rapidity with which we now moved prevented all con- 
versation, or even much reflection. The reports of the 
rending ice, however, became more and more frequent, first 
coming from above, and then from below. More than once 
it seemed as if the immense mass of weight that had evi- 
dently collected somewhere near the town of Albany, was 
about to pour down upon us in a flood — when the river 
would have been swept for miles, by a resistless torrent. 
Nevertheless, Guert held on his way ; firstly, because he 
knew it would be impossible to get on either of the main 
shores, anywhere near the point where we happened to be ; 
and secondly, because, having often seen similar dammings 
of the waters, he fancied we were still safe. That the 
distant reader may understand the precise character of the 
danger we ran, it may be well to give him some notion of 
the localities. 

The banks of the Hudson are generally high and pre- 
cipitous, and in some places they are mountainous. No 
flats worthy of being mentioned, occur, until Albany is ap- 
proached ; nor are those which lie south of that town, of 
any great extent, compared with the size of the stream. In 
this particular the Mohawk is a very different river, having 
extensive flats that, I have been told, resemble those of the 


s AT ANSTOE. 


237 

Rhine, in miniature. As lor the Hudson, it is generally 
esteemed in the colony as a very pleasing river ; and I re- 
member to have heard intelligent people from home, admit, 
that even the majestic Thames itself, is scarcely more worthy 
to be visited, or that it better rewards the trouble and curi- 
osity of the enlightened traveller.* 

While there are flats on the shores of the Hudson, and 
of some extent, in the vicinity of Albany, the general forma- 
tion ©f the adjacent country is preserved, — being high, bold, 
and in some quarters, more particularly to the northward 
and eastward, mountainous. Among these hills the stream 
meanders for sixty or eighty miles north of the town, re- 
ceiving tributaries as it comes rushing down towards the 
sea. The character of the river changes entirely, a short 
distance above Albany; the tides flowing to that point, 
rendering it navigable, and easy of ascent in summer, all 
the way from the sea. Of the tributaries, the principal is 
the Mohawk, which runs a long distance towards the west — 
they tell me, for I have never visited these remote parts of 
the colony — among fertile plains, that are bounded north and 
south by precipitous highlands. Now, in the spring, when 
the vast quantities of snow, that frequently lie four feet deep 
in the forests, and among the mountains and valleys of the 
interior, are suddenly melted by the south winds and rains, 
freshets necessarily succeed, which have been known to do 
great injury. The flats of the Mohawk, they tell me, are 
annually overflown, and a moderate freshet is deemed a bless- 
ing ; but, occasionally, a union of the causes I have men- 


* This remark of Mr. Cornelias Littlepage’s, may induce a smilo 
in the reader. But, few persons of fifty can be found, who cannot 
recall the time, when it was a rare thing to imagine anything Ame- 
rican, as good as its English counterpart. The American who could 
write a book — a real, live book — forty years since, was a sort of pro- 
digy. It was the same with him who could paint any picture beyond 
a common portrait. The very fruits and natural productions of the 
country were esteemed, doubtingly ; and he was a bold man who 
dared to extol even canvass-back ducks, in the year 1800! At the 
present day, the feeling is fast undergoing an organic change. It is now 
the fashion to extol everything American, and from submitting to a 
degree that was almost abject, to the feeling of colonial dependency, 
the country is filled, to-day, with the most profound provincial self- 
admiration. It is to be hoped that the next change will bring us to 
something like the truth. — Editor. 


238 


S AT ANSTOE. 


tioned, produces a species of deluge that has a very opposite 
character. Thus it is, that houses are swept away ; and 
bridges from the smaller mountain streams, have been known 
to come floating past the wharves of Albany, holding their 
way towards the ocean. At such times the tides produce 
no counter-current ; for it is a usual thing, in the early 
months of the spring, to have the stream pour downwards 
for weeks, the whole length of the river, and to find the 
water fresh even as low as New York. 

Such was the general nature of the calamity we had 
been so unexpectedly made to encounter. The winter had 
been severe, and the snows unusually deep; and, as we 
drove furiously onward, I remembered to have heard my 
grandfather predict extraordinary freshets in the spring, 
from the character of the winter, as we had found it, even 
previously to my quitting home. The great thaw, and the 
heavy rains of the late storm, had produced the usual effect ; 
and the waters thus let loose, among the distant, as well as 
the nearer hills, were now pouring down upon us in their 
collected might. In such cases, the first effect is, to loosen, 
the ice from the shores ; and, local causes forcing it to give 
way at particular points, a breaking up of its surface occurs, 
and dams are formed that set the stream back in floods upon 
all the adjacent low land, such as the flats in the vicinity of 
Albany. 

We did not then know it, but, at the very moment Guert 
was thus urging his blacks to supernatural efforts — actually 
running them as if on a race-course — there was a long 
reach of the Hudson, opposite to, for a short distance below, 
and for a considerable distance above the town, which was 
quite clear of stationary ice. Vast cakes continued to come 
down, it is true, passing on to increase the dam that had 
formed below, near and on the Overslaugh, where it was 
buttressed by the islands, and rested on the bottom ; but the 
whole of that firm field, on which we had first driven forth 
that morning, had disappeared ! This we did not know at 
the time, or it might have changed the direction of Guert’s 
movements ; but I learned it afterwards, when placed in a 
situation to inquire into the causes of what had occurred. 

Herman Mordaunt’s bells, and the rumbling sound of his 
runners, were heard close behind us, as our own sleigh flew 


S AT ANSTOE. 


239 


along the river at a rate that I firmly believe could not have 
been much less than that of twenty miles in the hour. As 
we were whirled northward, the reports made by the rending 
of the ice increased in frequency and force. They really 
became appalling ! Still, the girls continued silent, main- 
taining their self-command in a most admirable manner; 
though I doubt not that they felt, in the fullest extent, the 
true character of the awful circumstances in which we were 
placed. Such was the state of things, as Guert’s blacks 
began sensibly to relax in their speed, for want of wind. 
They still galloped on, but it was no longer with the swift- 
ness of the wind ; and their master became sensible of the 
folly of hoping to reach the town ere the catastrophe should 
arrive. He reined in his panting horses, therefore, and was 
just falling into a trot, as a violent report was heard directly 
in our front. At the next instant the ice rose, positively, 
beneath our horses’ hoofs, to the height of several feet, taking 
the form of the roof of a house. It was too late to retreat, 
and Guert shouting out “ Jack” — “ Moses,” applied the whip, 
and the spirited animals actually went over the mound, 
leaping a crack three feet in width, and reaching the level 
ice beyond. All this was done, as it might be, in the twink- 
ling of an eye. While the sleigh flew over this ridge, it 
was with difficulty I held the girls in their seats ; though 
Guert stood nobly erect, like the pine that is too firmly 
rooted t< > yield to the tempest. No sooner was the danger 
passed, however, than he pulled up, and came to a dead halt. 

We heard the bells of Herman Mordaunt’s sleigh, on the 
other s’de of the barrier, but could see nothing. The 
broken cakes, pressed upon by millions of tons weight 
above, had risen fully ten feet, into an inclination that was 
nearly perpendicular ; rendering crossing it next to impos- 
sible, even to one afoot. Then came Herman Mordaunt’s 
voice, filled with paternal agony, and human grief, to in- 
crease the awe of that dreadful moment ! 

“ Shore ! — shore ! — ” he shouted, or rather yelled — “ In 
the name of a righteous Providence, to the shore, Guert !” 

The bells passed off towards the western bank, and the 
rumbling of the runners accompanied their sound. That 
was a breathless moment to us four. We heard the rending 
and grinding of the ice, on all sides of us ; saw the broken 


240 


SATANSTOE. 


barriers behind and in front ; heard the jingling of Herman 
Mordaunt’s bells, as it became more and more distant, and 
finally ceased ; and felt as if we were cut off from the rest 
of our species. 1 do not think either of us felt any appre- 
hension of breaking through ; for use had so accustomed us 
to the field of the river, while the more appalling grounds 
of alarm were so evident, that no one thought of such a 
source of danger. Nor was there much, in truth, to appre- 
hend from that cause. The thaw had not lasted long enough 
materially to diminish either the thickness or the tenacity 
of the common river ice ; though it was found unequal to 
resisting the enormous pressure that bore upon it from above. 
It is probable that a cake of an acre’s size would have up- 
held, not only ourselves, but our sleigh and horses, and 
carried us, like a raft, down the stream ; had there been 
such a cake, free from stationary impediments. Even the 
girls now comprehended the danger, which was in a manner 
suspended over us, — as the impending wreath of snow 
menaces the fall of the avalanche . But, it was no moment 
for indecision or inaction. 

Cut off, as we were, by an impassable barrier of ice, from 
the route taken by Herman Mordaunt, it was necessary to 
come to some resolution on our own course. We had the 
choice of endeavouring to pass to the western shore, on the 
upper side of the barrier, or of proceeding towards the near- 
est of several low islands which lay in the opposite direc- 
tion. Guert determined on the last, walking his horses to 
the point of land, there being no apparent necessity for haste, 
while the animals greatly needed breath. As we went along, 
he explained to us that the fissure below cut us off from the 
only point where landing on the western shore could be 
practicable. At the same time, he put in practice a pious 
fraud, which had an excellent effect on the feelings and 
conduct of both the girls, throughout the remainder of the 
trying scenes of that fearful night ; more especially on those 
of Anneke. He dwelt on the good fortune of Herman Mor- 
daunt, in being on the right side of the barrier that sepa- 
rated the sleighs, in a way to induce those who did not 
penetrate his motive, to fancy the rest of the party was in a 
place of security, as the consequence of this accident. 


S AT AN STOE . 


241 

Thus did Anneke believe her father safe, and thus was she 
relieved from much agonizing doubt. 

As soon as the sleigh came near the point ot the island, 
Guert gave me the reins, and went ahead to examine 
whether it were possible to land. He was absent fifteen 
minutes ; returning to us only after he had made a thorough 
search into the condition of the island, as well as of that of 
the ice in its eastern channel. These were fifteen fearful 
minutes ; the rending of the masses above, and the grinding 
of cake on cake, sounding like the roar of the ocean in a 
tempest. Notwithstanding all the awful accessories of this 
dreadful night, I could not but admire Guert’s coolness of 
manner, and his admirable conduct. He was more than 
resolute ; for he was cool, collected, and retained the use of 
all his faculties in perfection. As plausible as it might seem, 
to one less observant and clear-headed, to attempt escaping 
to the western shore, Guert had decided right in moving to- 
wards the island. The grinding of the ice, in another quarter, 
had apprised him that the water was forcing its way through, 
near the main land ; and that escape would be nearly hope- 
less, on that side of the river. When he rejoined us, he 
called me to the heads of the horses, for a conference ; first 
solemnly assuring our precious companions that there were 
no grounds for -immediate apprehension. Mary Wallace 
anxiously asked him to repeat this to her , on the faith due 
from man to woman ; and he did it ; when I was permitted 
to join him without further opposition. 

“ Corny,” said Guert, in a low tone, “ Providence has 
punished me for my wicked wish of seeing Mary Wallace in 
the claws of lions ; for all the savage beasts of the Old 
World, could hardly make our case more desperate than it 
now is. We must be cool, however, and preserve the girls, 
or die like men.” 

“ Our fates are, and must be, the same. Do you devote 
yourself to Mary, and leave Anneke to me. But, why this 
language ; surely, our case is by no means so desperate.” 

“ It might not be so difficult for two active, vigorous young 
men to get ashore ; but it would be different with females. 
The ice is in motion all around us ; and the cakes are piling 
and grinding on each other in a most fearful manner. Were 
it light enough to see, we should do much better ; but, as if 
21 


242 


SATANSTOE. 


is, I dare not trust Mary Wallace any distance from this 
island, at present. We may be compelled to pass the night 
here, and must make provision accordingly. You hear the 
ice grinding on the shore ; a sign that everything is going 
down stream. — God send that the waters break through, ere 
long ; though they may sweep all before them, when they 
do come. I fear me, Corny, that Herman Mordaunt and 
his party are lost !” 

“ Merciful Providence ! — can it be as bad as that ! — I 
rather hope they have reached the land.” 

“ That is impossible, on the course they took. Even a 
man would be bewildered and swept away, in the torrent 
that is driving down under the west shore. It is that vent 
to the water, which saves us. But, no more words. — You 
now understand the extent of the danger, and will know 
what you are about. We must get our precious charge on 
the island, if possible, without further delay. Half an hour 
— nay, half a minute may bring down the torrent.” 

Guert took the direction of everything. Even while we 
had been talking, the ice had moved materially; and we 
found ourselves fifty feet further from the island than we 
had been. By causing the horses to advance, this distance 
was soon recovered ; but it was found impossible to lead or 
drive them over the broken cakes with which the shore of 
the island now began to be lined. After one or two spirited 
and determined efforts, Guert gave the matter up, and asked 
me to help the ladies from the sleigh. Never did women 
behave better, than did these delicate and lovely girls, on 
an occasion so awfully trying. Without remonstrances, 
tears, exclamations or questions, both did as desired ; and I 
cannot express the feeling of security I felt, when I had 
helped each over the broken and grinding border of white 
ice, that separated us from the shore. The night was far 
from cold ; but the ground was now frozen sufficiently to 
prevent any unpleasant consequences from walking on what 
would otherwise have been a slimy, muddy alluvion ; for 
the island was so very low, as often to be under water, when 
the river was particularly high. This, indeed, formed our 
danger, after we had reached it. 

When I returned to Guert, I found him already drifted 
down some little distance ; and this time we moved the 


S AT ANSTOE . 


243 


sleigh so much above the point, as to be in less danger of 
getting out of sight of our precious wards. To my surprise, 
Guert was busy in stripping the harness from the horses , 
and Jack already stood only in his blinkers. Moses was 
soon reduced to the same state. I was wondering what was 
to be done next, when Guert drew each bridle from its ani- 
mal, and gave a smart crack of his whip. The liberated 
horses started back with affright — snorted, reared, and, 
turning away, they went down the river, free as air, and 
almost as swift ; the incessant and loud snapping of heir 
master’s whip, in no degree tending to diminish their speed. 
I asked the meaning of this. 

“ It would be cruel not to let the poor beasts make use of 
the strength and sagacity nature has given them to save 
their lives,” answered Guert, straining his eyes after Moses, 
the horse that was behind, so long as his dark form could be 
distinguished, and leaning forward to listen to the blows of 
their hoofs, while the noises around us permitted them to be 
heard. “ To us, they would only be an encumbrance, since 
they never could be forced over the cracks and caked ice in 
harness ; nor would it be at all safe to follow them, if they 
could. The sleigh is light, and we are strong enough to 
shove it to land, when there is an opportunity ; or, it may 
be left on the island.” 

Nothing could have served more effectually to convince 
me of the manner in which Guert regarded our situation, 
than to see him turn loose beasts which I knew he so highly 
prized. I mentioned this ; and he answered me with a 
melancholy seriousness, that made the impression so much 
the stronger — 

u It is possible they may get ashore, for nature has given 
a horse a keen instinct. They can swim, too, where you 
and I would drown. At all events, they are not fettered 
with harness, but have every chance it is in my power to 
give them. Should they land, any farmer would put them 
in his stable, and I should soon hear where they were to be 
found ; if, indeed, I am living in the morning to make the 
inquiry.” 

VVhat is next to be done, Guert?” I asked, understand- 
ing at once both his feelings and his manner of reasoning. 

“We must now run the sleigh on the island ; after which 


244 


S AT AN STOE . 


it will be time to look about us, and to examine if it be pos- 
sible to get the ladies on the main land.” 

Accordingly, Guert and I applied ourselves to the task, 
and had no great difficulty in dragging the sleigh over the 
cakes, grinding and in motion as they were. We pulled it 
as far as the tree beneath which Anneke and Mary stood ; 
when the ladies got into it and took their seats, enveloped in 
the skins. The night was not cold for the season, and our 
companions were thickly clad, having tippets and muffs , 
still, the wolves’ skins of Guert contributed to render them 
more comfortable. All apprehension of immediate danger 
now ceased, for a short time ; nor do I think either of the 
females fancied they could run any more risk, beyond that 
of exposure to the night air, so long as they remained on 
terra jirma. Such was not the case, however, as a very 
simple explanation will render apparent to the reader. 

All the islands in this part of the Hudson are low, being 
rich, alluvial meadows, bordered by trees and bushes; most 
of the first being willows, sycamores, or nuts. The fertility 
of the soil had given to these trees rapid growths, and they 
were generally of some stature ; though not one among 
them had that great size which ought to mark the body and 
branches of a venerable tenant of the forest. This fact, of 
itself, proved that no one tree of them all was very old ; a 
circumstance that was certainly owing to the ravages of the 
annual freshets. I say annual; for though the freshet which 
now encompassed us, was far more serious than usual, each 
year brought something of the sort ; and the islands were 
constantly increasing or diminishing under their action. To 
prevent the last, a thicket of trees was left at the head of 
each island, to form a sort of barricade against the inroads 
of the ice in the spring. So low was the face of the land, 
or meadow, however, that a rise of a very few feet in the 
river would be certain to bring it entirely under water. All 
this will be made more apparent by our own proceedings, 
after we had placed the ladies in the sleigh ; and more espe- 
cially, by the passing remarks of Guert while employed in 
his subsequent efforts. 

No sooner did Guert Ten Eyck believe the ladies to be 
temporarily safe, than he proposed to me that we should take 
a closer look at the state of the river, in order to ascertain 


it 


S AT ANSTOE. 


245 


the most feasible means of getting on the main land. This 
was said aloud, and in a cheerful way, as if he no longer 
felt any apprehension, and, evidently to me, to encourage 
our companions. Anneke desired us to go, declaring that 
now she knew herself to be on dry land, all her own fears 
had vanished. We went accordingly, taking our first di- 
rection towards the head of the island. 

A very few minutes sufficed to reach the limits of our 
narrow domain ; and, as we approached them, Guert pointed 
out to me the mound of ice that was piling up behind it, 
as a most fearful symptom. 

“ There is our danger,” he said, with emphasis, “ and we 
must not trust to these trees. This freshet goes beyond 
any I ever saw on the river ; and not a spring passes that 
we have not more or less of them. Do you not see, Corny, 
what saves us now ?” 

“ We are on an island, and cannot be in much danger 
from the river while we stay here.” 

“ Not so, my dear friend, not at all so. But, come with 
me and look for yourself.” 

I followed Guert, and did look for myself. We sprang 
upon the cakes of ice, which were piled quite thirty feet in 
height, on the head of the island, extending right and left, 
as far as our eyes could see, by that misty light. It was by 
no means difficult moving about on this massive pile, the 
movement in the cakes being slow, and frequently inter- 
rupted ; but there was no concealing the true character of 
the danger. Had not the island, and the adjacent main in- 
terposed their obstacles, the ice would have continued to move 
bodily down the stream, cake shoving over cake, until the 
whole found vent in the wider space below, and floated off 
towards the ocean. Not only was our island there, how- 
ever, but other islands lay near us, straitening the different 
channels or passages in such a way, as to compel the forma* 
tion of an icy dam ; and, on the strength of this dam rested 
all our security. Were it to be ruptured anywhere near us, 
we should inevitably be swept off in a body. Guert thought, 
however, as has been said already, that the waters had 
found narrow issues under the main land, both east and 
west of us ; and should this prove to be true, there was a 
hope that the great calamity might be averted. In other 
21 * 


246 


SATANSTOE. 


words, if these floodgates sufficed, we might escape ; other- 
wise the catastrophe was certain. 

“ I cannot excuse it to myself to remain here, without 
endeavouring to see what is the state of things nearer to the 
shore,” said Guert, after we had viewed the fast accumulat- 
ing mass of broken ice above us, as well as the light per- 
mitted, and we had talked over together the chances of 
safety, and the character of the danger. u Do you return 
to the ladies, Corny, and endeavour to keep up their spirits, 
while I cross this channel on our right, to the next island, 
and see what offers in that direction.” 

“ I do not like the idea of your running all the risk alone ; 
besides, something may occur to require the strength of two, 
instead of that of one, to overcome it.” 

“ You can go with me as far as the next island, if you 
will, where we shall be able to ascertain at once whether it 
be ice or water that separates us 1 from the eastern shore. If 
the first, you can return as fast as possible for the ladies, 
while I look for a place to cross. I do not like the appear- 
ance of this dam, to be honest with you ; and have great 
fears for those who are now in the sleigh.” 

We were in the very act of moving away, when a loud, 
cracking noise, that arose within a few yards, alarmed 
us both ; and running to the spot whence it proceeded, we 
saw that a large willow had snapped in two, like a pipe-stem, 
and that the whole barrier of ice was marching, slowly, but 
grandly, over the stump, crushing the fallen trunk and 
branches beneath its weight, as the slow-moving wheel of 
the loaded cart crushes the twig. Guert grasped my arm, 
and his fingers nearly entered the flesh, under his iron 
pressure. 

“ We must quit this spot — ” he said firmly, “ and at once. 
Let us go back to the sleigh.” 

I did not know Guert’s intentions, but I saw it was time 
to act with decision. We moved swiftly down to the spot 
where we had left the sleigh ; and the reader will judge of 
our horror, when we found it gone ! The whole of the low 
point of the island where we had leff it, was already covered 
with cakes of ice that were in motion, and which had doubt- 
less swept off the sleigh during the few minutes that we had 
been absent ! Looking around us, however, we saw an 


S AT ANSTO E . 


247 


object on the river, a little distance below, that I fancied was 
the sleigh, and was about to rush after it, when a voice, 
filled with alarm, took us in another direction. Mary Wal- 
lace came out from behind a tree, to which she had fled for 
safety, and seizing Guert’s arm, implored him not to quit 
her again. 

“ Whither has Anneke gone]” I demanded, in an agony 
I cannot describe — “I see nothing of Anneke!” 

“ She would not quit the sleigh,” answered Mary Wallace, 
almost panting for breath — “ I implored — entreated her to 
follow me — said you must soon return ; but she refused to 
quit the sleigh. Anneke is in the sleigh, if that can now 
be found.” 

I heard no more ; but springing on the still moving cakes 
of ice, went leaping from cake to cake, until my sight showed 
me that, sure enough, the sleigh was on the bed of the river, 
over which it was in slow motion ; forced downwards before 
the new coating of ice that was fast covering the original 
surface. At first I could see no one in the sleigh ; but, on 
reaching it, I found Anneke buried in the skins. She was 
on her knees : the precious creature was asking succour 
from God ! 

I had a wild but sweet consolation in thus finding myself, 
as it might be, cut off from all the rest of my kind, in the 
midst of that scene of gloom and desolation, alone with 
Anneke Mordaunt. The moment I could make her con- 
scious of my presence, she inquired after Mary Wallace, 
and was much relieved on learning that she was with Guert, 
and would not be left by him, for a single instant, again that 
night. Indeed, I saw their figures dimly, as they moved 
swiftly across the channel that divided the two islands, and 
disappear in that direction, among the bushes that lined the 
place to which they had gone. 

“ Let us follow,” I said eagerly. “The crossing is yet 
easy, and we, too, may escape to the shore.” 

“ Go you !” said Anneke, over whom a momentary phy- 
sical torpor appeared to have passed. “ Go you, Corny,” 
she said ; “ a man may easily save himself; and you are 
an only child — the sole hope of your parents.” 

“ Dearest, beloved Anneke ! — why this indifference — this 


248 


5ATANSTOE. 


apathy on your own behalf? Are you not an only child, 
the sole hope of a widowed father ? — do you forget him ?” 

“ No, no, no !” exclaimed the dear girl, hurriedly. “ Help 
me out of the sleigh, Corny : there, I will go with you any- 
where — any how — to the end of the world, to save my 
father from such anguish !” 

From that moment the temporary imbecility of Anneke 
vanished, and I found her, for the remainder of the time we 
remained in jeopardy, quick to apprehend, and ready to 
second all my efforts. It was this passing submission to an 
imaginary doom, on the one hand, and the headlong effect 
of sudden fright on the other, which had separated the two 
girls, and which had been the means of dividing the whole 
party as described. 

I scarcely know how to describe what followed. So in- 
tense was my apprehension on behalf of Anneke, that I can 
safely say, I did not think of my own fate, in the slightest 
degree, as disconnected from hers. The self-devoted reliance 
with which the dear girl seemed to place all her dependence 
on me, would, of itself, have produced this effect, had she 
not possessed my whole heart, as I was now so fully aw r are. 
Moments like those, make one alive to all the affections, and 
strip off every covering that habit or the dissembling of our 
manners is so apt to throw over the feelings. I believe I 
both spoke and acted towards Anneke, as one would cling 
to, or address the being dearest to him in the world, for the 
next few minutes; but, I can suppose the reader will natu- 
rally prefer learning what we did, under such circumstances, 
rather than what we said, or how we felt. 

I repeat, it is not easy for me to describe what followed. 
I know we first rather ran, than walked, across the channel 
on which I had last seen the dim forms of Guert and Mary, 
and even crossed the island to its eastern side, in the hope 
of being able to reach the shore in that quarter. The at- 
tempt was useless, for we found the water running down 
over the ice like a race-way. Nothing could be seen of our 
late companions ; and my loud and repeated calls to them 
were unanswered. 

“ Our case is hopeless, Cornelius,” said Anneke; speaking 
with a forced calmness when she found retreat impossible in 


SATANSTOE. 249 

that direction, “ Let us return to the sleigh, and submit to 
the will of God !” 

“ Beloved Anneke ! — Think of your father, and summon 
your whole strength. The bed of the river is yet firm ; we 
will cross it, and try the opposite shore.” 

Cross it we did, my delicate companion being as much 
sustained by my supporting arm, as by her own resolution, 
but we found the same obstacle to retreat interposing there 
also. The island above had turned the waters aside, until 
they found an outlet under each bank — shooting along their 
willowy shores, with the velocity of arrows. By this time, 
owing to our hurried movement, I found Anneke so far ex- 
hausted, that it was absolutely necessary to pause a minute 
to take breath. This pause was also necessary, in order to 
look about us, and to decide understandingly as to the 
course it was necessary now to pursue. This pause, brief 
as it was, moreover, contributed largely to the apparent 
horrors of our situation. 

The grating, or grinding of the ice above us, cake upon 
cake, now sounded like the rushing of heavy winds, or the 
incessant roaring of a surf upon the sea-shore. The piles 
were becoming visible, by their height and their proximity, 
as the ragged barriers set slowly but steadily down upon us ; 
and the whole river seemed to me to be in motion downwards. 
At this awful instant, when I began to think it was the will 
of Providence that Anneke and I were to perish together, a 
strange sound interrupted the fearful natural accessories of 
that frightful scene. I certainly heard the bells of a sleigh; 
at first they seemed distant and broken — then, nearer and 
incessant, attended by the rumbling of runners on the ice. 
I took off my cap and pressed my head, for I feared my 
brain was unsettled. There it came, however, more and 
more distinctly, until the trampling of horses’ hoofs mingled 
in the noise. N 

“ Can there be others as unhappy as ourselves !” exclaimed 
Anneke, forgetting her own fears in generous sympathy. 
“See, Littlepage! — see, dear Cornelius — yonder surely 
comes another sleigh !” 

Come it did, like the tempest, or the whirlwind ; passing 
within fifty feet of us. I knew it at a glance. It was the 
sleigh of Herman Mordaunt, empty ; with the horses, mad- 


250 


S AT ANSTOE . 


dened by terror, running wherever their fears impelled. As 
the sleigh passed, it was thrown on one side ; then it was 
once more whirled up again ; and it went out of sight, with 
the rumbling sound of the runners mingling with the jingling 
of bells and the tramp of hoofs. 

At this instant a loud, distant cry from a human voice, 
was certainly heard. It seemed, to me, as if some one 
called my name ; and Anneke said, she so understood it, 
too. The call, if call it was, came from the south, and 
from under the western shore. At the next moment, awful 
reports proceeded from the barrier above ; and, passing an 
arm around the slender waist of my lovely companion, to 
support her, I began a rapid movement in the direction of 
that call. While attempting to reach the western shore, I 
had observed a high mound of broken ice, that was floating 
down ; or rather, was pressed down on the smooth surface 
of the frozen river, in advance of the smaller cakes that 
came by in the current. It was increasing, in size, by ac- 
cessions from these floating cakes, and threatened to form a 
new dam, at some narrow pass below, as soon as of sufficient 
size. It occurred to me we should be temporarily safe, 
could we reach that mound, for it rose so high as to be above 
danger from the water. Thither, then, I ran, almost car- 
rying Anneke on my arm ; our speed increased by the ter- 
rific sounds from the dam above us. 

We reached the mound, and found the cakes so piled, as 
to be able to ascend them ; though not without an effort. 
After getting up a layer or two, the broken mass became so 
irregular and ragged, as to render it necessary for me to 
mount first, and then to drag Anneke up after me. This I 
did, until exhausted ; and we both seated ourselves on the 
edge of a cake, in order to recover our breath. While 
there, it struck me, that new sounds arose from the river; 
and, bending forward to examine, I saw that the water had 
forced its way through the dam above and was coming 
down upon us in a torrent. 


S AT ANSTOE. 


251 


CHAPTER XVII. 


My heart leaps up when I behold 
A rainbow in the sky: 

So was it when my life began ; 

So is it now I am a man ; 

So be it when I shall grow old, 

Or let me die ! 

The child is father of the man ; 

And I could wish my days to be 
Bound each to each by natural piety. 

Wordsworth. 

Five minutes longer on the ice of the main channel, and 
we should have been swept away. Even as we still sat 
looking at the frightful force of the swift current, as well as 
the dim light of that clouded night would permit, I saw Guert 
Ten Eyck’s sleigh whirl past us ; and, only a minute later, 
H<*rman Mordaunt’s followed ; the poor, exhausted beasts 
struggling in the harness for freedom, that they might swim 
for their lives. Anneke heard the snorting of those wretched 
horses ; but her unpractised eyes did not detect them, im- 
mersed, as they were, in the current; nor had she recog- 
nised the sleigh that whirled past us, as her father’s. A 
little later, a fearful shriek came from one of the fettered 
beasts ; such a heart-piercing cry as it is known the horse 
often gives. I said nothing on the subject, knowing that 
love for her father was one of the great incentives which had 
aroused my companion to exertion ; and being unwilling to 
excite fears that were now latent. 

Two or three minutes of rest were all that circumstances 
pei milted. I could see that everything visible on the river, 
was in motion downwards ; the piles of ice on which we 
were placed, as well as the cakes that glanced by us, in 
their quicker descent. Our own motion was slow, on ac- 
count of the mass which doubtless pressed on the shoals of 
the west side of the river; as well as on account of the fric- 
tion against the lateral fields of ice, and occasionally against 
the shore. Still, we were in motion ; and I felt the neces- 
sity, on every account, of getting as soon as possible on the 


✓ 


252 


SATANSTOE. 


western verge of our floating island, in order to profit by any 
favourable occurrence that might offer. 

Dear Anneke ! — How admirably did she behave that 
fearful night ! From the moment she regained her entire 
consciousness, after I found her praying in the bottom of the 
sleigh, down to that instant, she had been as little of an en- 
cumbrance to my own efforts, as was at all possible. Rea- 
sonable, resolute, compliant, and totally without any ill-timed 
exhibition of womanly apprehension, she had done all she 
was desired to do unhesitatingly, and with intelligence. 
In ascending that pile of ice, by no means an easy task 
under any circumstances, we had acted in perfect concert ; 
every effort of mine being aided by one of her own, directed 
by my advice and greater experience. 

“ God has not deserted us, dearest Anneke,” I said, now 
that my companion’s strength appeared to have returned, 
“ and we may yet hope to escape. I can anticipate the joy 
we shall bring to your father’s heart, when he again takes 
you to his arms, safe and uninjured.” 

“ Dear, dear father ! — What agony he must now be suf- 
fering on my account. — Come, Corny, let us go to him at 
once, if it be possible.” 

As this was said, the precious girl arose, and adjusted her 
tippet in a way that should cause her no encumbrance; like 
one ready to set about the execution of a serious task with 
all her energies. The muff had been dropped on the river ; 
for neither of us had any sensibility to cold. The night, 
however, was quite mild, for the season ; and we probably 
should not have suffered, had our exertions been less violent. 
Anneke declared herself ready to proceed, and I commenced 
the difficult and delicate task of aiding her across an island 
composed of icy fragments, in order to reach its western 
margin. We were quite thirty feet in the air ; and a fall 
into any of the numerous caverns, among which we had to 
proceed, might have been fatal ; certainly would have crip- 
pled the sufferer. Then the surface of the ice was so smooth 
as to render walking on it an exceedingly delicate operation ; 
more especially as the cakes lay at all manner of inclina- 
tions to the plane of the horizon. Fortunately, I wore buck- 
skin moccasins over my boots ; and their rough leather 
aided me greatly in maintaining my footing. Anneke, too, 


S AT ANSTOE. 


253 


had socks of cloth ; without which, I do not think, she could 
have possibly moved. By these aids, however, and by pro- 
ceeding with the utmost caution, we had actually succeeded 
in attaining our object, when the floating mass shot into an 
eddy, and, turning slowly round, under this new influence, 
placed us on the outer side of the island again ! Not a 
murmur escaped Anneke, at this disappointment ; but, with 
a sweetness of temper that spoke volumes in favour of her 
natural disposition, and a resignation that told her training, 
she professed a readiness to renew her efforts. To this I 
would not consent, however ; for I saw that the eddy was 
still whirling us about ; and I thought it best to escape from 
its influence altogether, before we threw away our strength 
fruitlessly. Instead of re-crossing the pile, therefore, I told 
my fair companion that we would descend to a cake that 
lay level on the water, and which projected from the 
mass to such a distance, as to be close to the shore, should we 
again get near it. This descent was made, after some 
trouble, though I was compelled to receive Anneke entirely 
into my arms, in order to effect it. Effect it I did ; placing 
the sweet girl safely at my side, on the outermost and lowest 
of all the cakes in our confused pile. 

In some respects this change was for the better ; while 
it did not improve our situation in others. It placed both 
Anneke and myself behind a shelter, as respected the wind ; 
which, though neither very strong nor very cold, had 
enough of March about it to render the change acceptable. 
It took my companion, too, from a position where motion 
was difficult, and often dangerous ; leaving her on a level, 
even spot, where she could walk with ease and security, and 
keep the blood in motion by exercise. Then it put us both 
in the best possible situation to profit by any contact with 
that shore, along and near which our island was now slowly 
moving. 

There could no longer be any doubt of the state of the 
river in general. It had broken up ; spring had come, like 
a thief in the night ; and the ice below having given way, 
while the mass above had acquired too much power to be 
resisted, everything was set in motion ; and, like the death 
of the strong man, the disruption of fields in themselves so 
thick and adhesive, had produced an agony surpassing the 
22 


I 


254 


SAT ANSTOE. 


flsual struggle of the seasons. Nevertheless, the downward 
motion had begun in earnest, and the centre of the river 
was running like a sluice, carrying away, in its current, 
those masses which had just before formed so menacing an 
obstacle above. 

Luckily, our own pile was a little aside from the great 
downward rush. I have since thought, that it touched the 
bottom, which caused it to turn, as well as retarded its 
movement. Be this as it might, we still remained in a little 
bay, slowly turning in a circle ; and glad was I to see our 
low cake coming round again, in sight of the western shore. 
The moment now demanded decision ; and I prepared An- 
neke to meet it. A large, low, level cake had driven up on 
the shore, and extended out so far as to promise that our 
own cake would touch it, in our evolutions. I knew that 
the ice, in general, had not broken in consequence of any 
weakness of its own, but purely under the weight of the enor- 
mous pressure from above, and the mighty force of the cur- 
rent ; and that we ran little, or no risk, in trusting our per- 
sons on the uttermost limits of any considerable fragment. 
A station was taken, accordingly, near a projection of the 
cake we were on ; when we waited for the expected contact. 
At such moments, the slightest disappointment carries with 
it the force of the greatest circumstances. Several times 
did it appear, to us, that our island was on the point of 
touching the fastened cake, and as often did it incline aside ; 
at no time coming nearer than within six or eight feet. This 
distance it would have been easy enough, for me to leap 
across > but, to Anneke, it was a barrier as impassable as 
the illimitable void. The sweet girl saw this ; and, she 
acted like herself, under the circumstances. She took my 
hand, pressed it, and said earnestly, and with patient sweet- 
ness — 

“ You see how it is, Corny ; I am not permitted to escape; 
but you can easily reach the shore. Go, then, and leave 
me in the hands of Providence. Go ; I never can forget 
what you have already done ; but it is useless to perish to- 
gether !” 

I have never doubted that Anneke was perfectly sincere 
in her wish that I should, at least, save my own life. The 
feeling with which she spoke ; the despair that was coming 


S AT ANSTOE . 


255 


over her ; and the movement of our island, which, at that 
moment, gave signs of shooting away from the shore, alto« 
gether, roused me to a sudden, and certainly, to a very bold 
attempt. I tremble, even at this distance of time, as I write 
the particulars. A small cake of ice was floating in between 
us and that which lay firmly fastened to the shore. Its 
size was such as to allow it to pass between the two ; though 
not without coming nearly, if not absolutely, in contact with 
one, if not with both. I observed all this ; and, saying one 
word of encouragement to Anneke, I passed an arm around 
her waist — waited the proper moment — and sprang forward. 
It was necessary to make a short leap, with my precious 
burthen on my arm, in order to gain this floating bridge ; 
but it was done, and successfully. Scarcely permitting An- 
neke’s foot to touch this frail support, which was already 
sinking under our joint weight, I crossed it at two or three 
steps, and threw all my power into a last and desperate 
effort. I succeeded here, also ; and fell, upon the firmer 
cake, with a heart filled with gratitude to God. The touch 
told me that we were safe ; and, in the next instant, we 
reached the solid ground. Under such circumstances, one 
usually looks back to examine the danger he has just gone 
through. I did so ; and saw that the floating cake of ice 
had already passed down, and was out of reach ; while the 
mass that had been the means of saving us, was slowly fol- 
lowing, under some new impulse, received from the furious 
currents of the river. But we were saved ; and most de- 
voutly did I thank my God, who had mercifully aided our 
escape from perils so imminent. 

I was compelled to wait for Anneke, who fell upon her 
knees, and remained there quite a minute, before I could aid 
her in ascending the steep acclivity which formed the west- 
ern bank of the Hudson, at this particular point. We 
reached the top, however, after a little delay, and pausing 
once or twice to take breath ; when we first became really 
sensible of the true character of the scene from which we 
had been delivered. Dim as was the light, there was enough 
to enable us to overlook a considerable reach of the river, 
from that elevated stand. The Hudson resembled chaos 
rushing headlong between the banks. As for the cakes of 
ice-^some darting past singly, and others piled as high as 


256 


S AT ANSTOE. 


houses — of course, the stream was filled with such ; but, a 
large, dark object was seen coming through that very chan 
nel, over which Anneke and I had stood, less than an 
hour before, sailing down the current with fearful rapidity. 
It was a house ; of no great size, it is true, but large enough 
to present a singular object on the river. A bridge, of some 
size, followed ; and a sloop, that had been borne away from 
the wharves of Albany, soon appeared in the strange assem- 
blage, that was thus suddenly collected on this great artery 
of the colony. 

But the hour was late ; Anneke was yet to care for ; it 
was necessary to seek a shelter. Still supporting my lovely 
companion, who now began to express her uneasiness on 
account of her father, and her other friends, I held the way 
inland ; knowing that there was a high road parallel to the 
river, and at no great distance from it. We reached the 
highway, in the course of ten minutes, and turned our faces 
northward, as the direction which led towards Albany. We 
had not advanced far before I heard the voices of men, who 
were coming towards us ; and glad was I to recognise that 
of Dirck Follock among the number. I called aloud, and 
was answered by a shout of exultation, which, as I after- 
wards discovered, spontaneously broke out of his mouth, 
when he recognised the form of Anneke. Dirck was power- 
fully agitated when we joined him ; I had never, previously, 
seen anything like such a burst of feeling from him ; and it 
was some time before I could address him. 

“ Of course, your whole party is safe V ’ I asked, a little 
doubtingly ; for I had actually given up all who had been in 
Herman Mordaunt’s sleigh for lost. 

“ Yes, thank God ! all but the sleigh and horses. But 
where are Guert Ten Eyck and Miss Wallace?” 

“ Gone ashore on the other side of the river ; we parted, 
and they took that direction, while we came hither.” I said 
this to quiet Anneke’s fears ; but I had misgivings about 
their having got off the river at all. “ But let me know the 
manner of your own escape.” 

Dirck then gave us a history of what had passed ; the whole 
party turning back to accompany us, as soon as I told them 
that their errand — a search for the horses — was useless. 
The substance of what we heard was as follows : — In the 


S AT ANSTOE. 


257 


first effort to reach the western shore, Herman Mordaunt 
had been met by the very obstacle which Guert had foreseen, 
and he turned south, hoping to find some spot at which to 
land, by going farther from the dam that had formed above. 
After repeated efforts, and having nearly lost his sleigh and 
the whole party, a point was reached at which Herman 
Mordaunt determined to get his female companion on shore, 
at every hazard. This was to be done only by crossing 
» floating cakes of ice, in a current that was already running 
at the rate of four or five miles in the hour. Dirck was left 
in charge of the horses while the experiment was made ; but 
seeing the adventurers in great danger, he flew to their as- 
sistance — when the whole party were immersed, though not 
in deep water. Left to themselves, and alarmed with the 
floundering in the river and the grinding of the cakes, Her- 
man Mordaunt’s bays went off in the confusion. Mrs. 
Bogart was assisted to the land, and was helped to reach 
the nearest dwelling — a comfortable farm-house, about a 
quarter of a mile beyond the point where we had met the 
party. There Mrs. Bogart had been placed in a warm bed, 
and the gentlemen were supplied with such dry clothes as 
the rustic wardrobe of these simple people could furnish. 
The change made, Dirck was on his way to ascertain what 
had become of the sleigh and horses, as has been mentioned. 

On inquiry, I found that the spot where Anneke and 
myself had landed was quite three miles below the island on 
which Guert and I had drawn the sleigh. Nearly the whole 
of this distance had we floated w r ith the pile of broken ice, in 
the short time we were on it ; a proof of the furious rate at 
which the current was setting downward. No one had 
heard anything of Guert and Mary ; but I encouraged my 
companion to believe that they were necessarily safe on the 
other shore. I certainly deemed this to be very questionable, 
but there was no use in anticipating evil. 

On reaching the farm-house, Herman Mordaunt’s delight 
and gratitude may more easily be imagined than described. 
He folded Anneke to his heart, and she wept like an infant 
on his bosom. Nor was I forgotten in this touching scene, 
but came in for a full share of notice. 

“ I want no details, noble young man — ” I am professing 
to write the truth, and must be excused for relating such 
22 * 


258 


SAT ANSTOE. 


things as these, but — “I want no details, noble young 
man,” said Herman Mordaunt, squeezing my hand, “ to feel 
certain that, under God, I owe my child’s life, for the second 
time, to you. I wish to Heaven ! — but, no matter — it is now 
too late — some other way may and must offer. I scarce 
know what I say, Littlepage; but what I mean is, to express 
faintly, some small portion of the gratitude I feel, and to let 
you know how sensibly and deeply your services are felt 
and appreciated.” 

The reader may think it odd, that this incoherent, but 
pregnant speech, made little impression on me at the time, 
beyond the grateful conviction of having really rendered the 
greatest of all services to Anneke and her father ; though I 
had better occasion to remember it afterwards. 

It is unnecessary to dwell more particularly on the occur- 
rences at the farm-house. The worthy people did what they 
could to make us comfortable, and we were all warm in bed, 
in the course of the next half-hour. 

On the following morning a wagon was harnessed, and 
we left these simple countrymen and women — who refused 
everything like compensation, as a matter of course — and 
proceeded homeward. I have heard it said that we Ameri- 
cans are mercenary: it may be so, but not a man, probably, 
exists in the colonies, who would accept money for such as- 
sistance. We were two hours in reaching Albany, on 
wheels ; and entered the place about ten, in a very different 
style from that in which we had quitted it the day before. 
As we drove along, the highway frequently led us to points 
that commanded views of the river, and we had so many 
opportunities of noting the effects of the freshet. Of ice, 
very little remained. Here and there a cake or a pile was 
seen still adhering to the shore, and occasionally fragments 
floated downwards ; but, as a rule, the torrent had swept all 
before it. I particularly took notice of the island on which 
we had sought refuge. It was entirely under water, but its 
outlines were to be traced by the bushes which lined its low 
banks. Most of the trees on its upper end were cut down, 
and all that grew on it would unquestionably have gone, had 
not the dam given way as early as it did. A great number 
of trees had been broken down on all the islands ; and large 
tons and heavy trunks were still floating in the current, that 


S AT ANSTOE. 


259 


were lately tenants of the forest, and had been violently 
torn from their places. 

We found all the lower part of Albany, too, under water. 
Boats were actually moving through the streets ; a consider- 
able portion of its inhabitants having no other means of 
communicating with their neighbours. A sloop of some size 
lay up on one of the lowest spots ; and, as the water was 
already subsiding, it was said she would remain there until 
removed by the shipwrights. Nobody was drowned in the 
place ; for it is not usual for the people of these colonies to 
remain in their beds, at such times, to await the appearance 
of the enemy in at their windows. We often read of such 
accidents destroying hundreds in the Old World ; but, in the 
New, human life is of too much account to be unnecessarily 
thrown away, and so we make some efforts to preserve it. 

As we drove into the street in which Herman Mordaunt 
lived, we heard a shout, and turning our heads, we saw 
Guert Ten Eyck waving his cap to us, with joy delineated 
in every feature of his handsome face. At the next moment 
he was at our side. 

“ Mr. Herman Mordaunt,” he cried, shaking that gentle- 
man most cordially by the hand, “ I look upon you as one 
raised from the dead ; you and my excellent neighbour, 
Mrs. Bogart, and Mr. Pollock, here ! How you got off the 
river is a mystery to me, for I well know that the water 
commonly breaks through first under the west shore. Corny 
and Miss Anneke — God bless you both ! Mary Wallace is 
in terror lest ill news come from some of you ; but I will run 
ahead and let her know the glad tidings. It is but five 
minutes since I left her, starting at every sound, lest it prove 
the foot of some ill-omened messenger.” 

Guert stopped to say no more. In a minute he was inside 
of Herman Mordaunt’s house — in another Anneke and Mary 
Wallace were locked in each other’s arms. After exchang- 
ing salutes, Mrs. Bogart was conveyed to her own residence, 
and there was a termination to that memorable expedition. 

Guert had less to communicate, in the way of dangers 
and marvels, than I had anticipated. It seemed, that when 
he and Miss Wallace reached the inner margin of the last 
island, a large cake of ice had entered the strait, and got 
jammed; or rather, that it went through, forced by the 


260 


SATAN STOE. 


{ 


tremendous pressure above ; though not without losing large 
masses, as it came in contact with the shores, and grinding 
much of its material into powder, by the attrition. Guert’s 
presence of mind and decision did him excellent service here. 
Without delaying an instant, the moment it was in his power, 
he led Mary on that cake, and crossed the narrow branch 
of the river, which alone separated him from the main land, 
on it, dry-shod. The water was beginning to find its way 
over this cake, as it usually did on all those that lay low, 
and which even stopped in their progress; but this did not 
offer any serious obstacles to persons who were so prompt. 
Safe themselves, our friends remained to see if we could not 
be induced to join them ; and the call we heard, was from 
Guert, who had actually re-crossed to the island, in the hope 
of meeting us, and directing us to a place of safety. Guert 
never said anything to me on the subject, himself ; but I 
subsequently gathered from Mary Wallace’s accounts, that 
the young man did not rejoin her without a good deal of 
hazard and difficulty, and after a long and fruitless search 
for his companions. Finding it useless to remain any longer 
on the river-side, Guert and his companion held their way 
towards Albany. About midnight they reached the ferry, 
opposite to the town ; having walked quite six miles, filled 
with uneasiness on account of those who had been left be- 
hind. Guert was a man of decision, and he wisely deter- 
mined it would be better to proceed, than to attempt waking 
up the inmates of any of the houses he passed. The river 
was now substantially free from ice, though running with 
great velocity. But, Guert was an expert oarsman ; and, 
finding a skiff, he persuaded Mary Wallace to enter it; actu- 
ally succeeding, by means of the eddies, in landing her 
within ten feet of the very spot where the hand-sled had de- 
posited him and myself, only a few days before. From this 
point, there was no difficulty in walking home ; and Miss 
Wallace actually slept in her own bed, that eventful night , 
if, indeed, she could sleep. 

Such was the termination of this adventure ; one that I 
have rightly termed memorable. In the end, Jack and 
Moses came in safe and sound ; having probably swum 
ashore. They were found in the public road, only a short 
distance from the town, and were brought in to their master 


S AT ANSTOE. 


261 


the same day. Every one who tooK any interest in horses 
— and what Dutchman does not? — knew Jack and Moses, 
and there was no difficulty in ascertaining to whom they 
belonged. What is singular, however, both sleighs were 
recovered ,* though at long intervals of time, and under 
very different circumstances. That of Guert, wolves’ skins 
and all, actually went down the whole length of the river on 
the ice ; passing out to sea through the Narrows. It must 
have gone by New York in the night, or doubtless it would 
have been picked up ; while the difficulty of reaching it, was 
its protector on the descent, above the town. Once outside 
of the Narrows, it was thrown by the tide and winds upon 
the shore of Staten Island ; where it was hauled to land, 
housed, and, being properly advertised in our New York 
paper, Guert actually got tidings of it in time to receive it, 
skins and all, by one of the first sloops that ascended the 
Hudson that year ; which was within a fortnight after the 
river had opened. The year 1758 was one of great activity, 
on account of the movements of the army, and no time was 
then unnecessarily lost. 

The history of Herman Mordaunt’s sleigh was very dif- 
ferent. The poor bays must have drowned soon after we 
saw them floating past us in the torrent. Of course, life 
had no sooner left them, than they sank to the bottom of the 
river, carrying with them the sleigh to which they were 
still attached. In a few days the animals rose to the sur- 
face — as is usual with all swollen bodies — bringing up the 
sleigh again. In this condition, the wreck was overtaken 
by a downward bound sloop, the men of which saved the 
sleigh, harness, skins, foot-stoves, and such other articles as 
would not float away. 

Our adventure made a good deal of noise in the circle of 
Albany; and I have reason to think that my own conduct 
was approved by those who heard of it. Bulstrode paid me 
an especial visit of thanks, the very day of my return, 
when the following conversation took place between us : — 

“ You seem fated, my dear Corny,” the Major observed, 
after he had paid the usual compliments, “ to be always 
serving me in the most material way, and I scarcely know 
how to express all I feel on the occasion. First, the lion, 
and now this affair of the river — but, that Guert will drown, 


262 


S AT ANSTOE . 


or make away with the whole family before the summer is 
over, unless Mr. Mordaunt puts a stop to his interference.” 

“ This accident was one that might have overtaken the 
oldest and most prudent man in Albany. The river seemed 
as solid as the street when we went on it ; and another hour, 
even asAt was, would have brought us all home, in entire 
safety.” 

“Ay, but that hour came near bringing death and desola- 
tion into the most charming family in the colony ; and you 
have been the means of averting the heaviest part of the 
blow. I wish to Heaven, Littlepage, that you would con- 
sent to come into the army ! Join us as a volunteer, the 
moment we move, and I will write to Sir Harry to obtain a 
pair of colours for you. As soon as he hears that we are 
indebted to your coolness and courage for the life of Miss 
Mordaunt, he will move heaven and earth, to manifest his 
gratitude. The instant this good parent made up his mind 
to accept Miss Mordaunt as a daughter, he began to consider 
her as a child of his own.” 

“And Anneke — Miss Mordaunt, herself, Mr. Bulstrode — 
does she regard Sir Harry as a father?” 

“ Why, that must be coming by slow degrees, as a matter 
of course, you know. Women are slower than us men to 
admit such totally novel impressions ; and I dare say Anneke 
fancies one father enough for her, just at this moment : 
though she sends very pleasant messages to Sir Harry, I 
can assure you, when in the humour ! But, what makes 
you so grave, my good Corny?” 

“ Mr. Bulstrode, I conceive it no more than fair, to be as 
honest as yourself in this matter. You have told me that 
you are a suitor for Miss Mordaunt’s hand ; I will now own 
to you that I am your rival.” 

My companion heard this declaration with a quiet smile, 
and the most perfect good-nature. 

“ So you actually wish to become the husband of Anneke 
Mordaunt, yourself, my dear Corny, do you?” he said, so 
coolly, that I was at a loss to know of what sort of materials 
the man could be made. 

“ I do, Major Bulstrode — it is the first and last wish of 
my heart.” 


SATANSTOE. 


263 


“ Since you seem disposed to reciprocate my confidence 
you will not take offence if I ask you a question or two !” 

“Certainly not, sir; your own frankness shall be a rule 
for my government.” 

“ Have you ever let Miss Mordaunt know that such are 
your wishes?” 

“I have, sir; and that in the plainest terms — such as 
cannot well be misunderstood.” 

“What! last night? — On that infernal ice! — While she 
thought her life was in your hands !” 

“ Nothing was said on the subject, last night, for we had 
other thoughts to occupy our minds.” 

“ It would have been a most ungenerous thing to take ad- 
vantage of a lady’s fears — ” 

“Major Bulstrode ! — I cannot submit — ” 

“ Hush, my dear Corny,” interrupted the other, holding 
out a hand in a most quiet and friendly manner; “there 
must be no misunderstanding between you and me. Men 
are never greater simpletons, than when they let the secret 
consciousness of their love of life push them into swaggering 
about their honour; when their honour has, in fact, nothing 
to do with the matter in hand. I shall not quarrel with you ; 
and must beg you, in advance, to receive my apologies for 
any little indecorum into which I may be betrayed by sur- 
prise ; as for great pieces of indecorum, I shall endeavour 
to avoid them” 

“ Enough has been said, Mr. Bulstrode ; I am no wrangler, 
to quarrel with a shadow ; and, I trust, not in the least, 
that most contemptible of all human beings, a social bully, 
to be on all occasions menacing the sword or the pistol. 
Such men usually do nothing, when matters come to a 
crisis. Even when they fight, they fight bunglingly, and 
innocently.” 

“You are right, Littlepage, and I honour yonr sentiments. 
I have remarked that the most expert swordsman with his 
tongue, and the deadest shot at a shingle, are commonly as 
innocent as lambs of the shedding of blood on the ground. 
They can sometimes screw themselves up to meet an adver- 
sary, but it exceeds their powers to use their weapons pro- 
perly, when it comes to serious work. The swaggerer is 
ever a coward at heart, however well he may wear a mask 


264 


SAT AN STOt. 


foi a time. But enough of this. — We understand each other, 
and are to remain friends, under all circumstances. May 1 
question further ?” 

“ Ask what you please, Bulstrode — I shall answer, or not, 
at my own discretion.” 

“ Then, permit me to inquire, if Major Littlepage has 
authorized you to offer proper settlements]” 

“ I am authorized to offer nothing. — Nor is it usual for 
the husband to make settlements on his wife, in these colo- 
nies, further than what the law does for her, in favour of 
her own. The father, sometimes, has a care for the third 
generation. I should expect Herman Mordaunt to settle his 
estate on his daughter, and her rightful heirs, let her marry 
whom she may.” 

“Ay, that is a very American notion ; and one on which 
Herman Mordaunt, who remembers his extraction, will 
be little likely to act. Well, Corny, we are rivals, as it 
would seem ; but that is no reason we should not remain 
friends. We understand each other — though, perhaps, I 
ought to tell you all.” 

“ I should be glad to know all , Mr. Bulstrode ; and can 
meet my fate, I hope, like a man. Whatever it may cost 
me, if Anneke prefer another, her happiness will be dearer 
to me than my own.” 

“ Yes, my dear fellow, we all say and think so at one- 
and-twenty ; which is about your age, I believe. At two- 
and-twenty, we begin to see that our own happiness has an 
equal claim on us ; and, at Mree-and-twenty, we even give 
it the preference. However, I will be just, if I am selfish. 
I have no reason to believe Anne Mordaunt does prefer me; 
though my perhaps is not altogether without a meaning, 
either.” 

“ In which case, I may possibly be permitted to know to 
what it refers I” 

“ It refers to the father ; and, I can tell you, my fine fel- 
low, that fathers are of some account, in the arrangement 
of marriages between parties of any standing. Had not Sir 
Harry authorized my own proposals, where should I have 
been 7 Not a farthing of settlement could I have offered, 
while he remained Sir Harry ; notwithstanding I had the 
prodigious advantage of the entail. I can tell you what it 


S AT ANSTOE. 


265 


is, Corny ; the existing power is always an important power 
since we all think more of the present time, than of the 
future. That is the reason so few of us get to Heaven. As 
for Herman Mordaunt, I deem it no more than fair to tell 
you, he is on my side, heart and hand. He likes my offers 
of settlement; he likes my family; he likes my rank, civil 
and military ; and I am not altogether without the hope, that 
he likes me.” 

I made no direct answer, and the conversation soon 
changed. Bulstrode’s declaration, however, caused me to 
remember both the speech and manner of Herman Mor- 
daunt, when he thanked me for saving his daughter’s life. 
I now began to reflect on it ; and reflected on it much during 
the next few months. In the end, the reader will learn the 
effect it had on my happiness. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

Good Sir, why do you start ; and seem to fear 
Things that do sound so fair? I’ the name of truth, 

Arc ye fantastical, or that indeed 
Which outwardly ye show?” 

Banquo. 

As I have said already, the adventure on the river made 
a good deal of noise, in that simple community ; and it had 
the effect to render Guert and myself a sort of heroes, in a 
small way ; bringing me much more into notice, than would 
otherwise have been the case. I thought that Guert, in par- 
ticular, would be likely to reap its benefit ; for, various 
elderly persons, who were in the habit of frowning, when- 
ever his name was mentioned, I was given to understand, 
could now smile ; and two or three of the most severe among 
the Albany moralists, were heard to say that, “after all, 
there was some good about that Guert Ten Eyck.” The 
reader will not require to be told, that a high-school moral- 
ist, in a place as retired and insulated as Albany, must 
pecessarily be a being that became subject to a very severe 
§3 


266 


SATAN ST012 . 


code. Morality, as I understand the matter, has a good 
deal of convention about it. There is town-morality and 
country-morality, all over the world, as they tell me. But, 
in America, our morals were, and long have been, separated 
into three great and very distinct classes ; viz. — New Eng- 
land, or puritan-morals ; middle colonies, or liberal morals; 
and southern colonies, or latitudinarian morals. I shall not 
pretend to point out all the shades of difference in these seve- 
ral schools ; though that in which I had myself been taught, 
was necessarily the most in conformity with my own tastes. 
There were minor shades to be found in the same school ; 
Guert and myself belonging to different classes. His morals 
were of the Dutch class ; while mine more properly be- 
longed to the English. The great characteristic of the 
Dutch school, was the tendency to excess that prevailed, 
when indulgencies were sought. With them, it did not rain 
often ; but, when it did rain, it was pretty certain to pour. 
Old Col. Follock was a case in point, on this score ; nor 
was his son Dirck, young and diffident as he was, altogether 
an exception to the rule. There was not a more respectable 
man in the colony, in the main, than Col. Van Valkenburgh. 
He was well connected ; had a handsome unencumbered 
estate ; and money at interest ; — was a principal prop, in the 
church of his neighbourhood ; was esteemed as a good hus- 
band ; a good father ; a true friend ; a kind neighbour ; an 
excellent, and loyal subject, and a thoroughly honest man. 
Nevertheless, Col. Van Valkenburgh had his weak times 
and seasons. He would have a frolic ; and the Dominie 
was obliged to wink at this propensity. Mr. Worden often 
nicknamed him Col. Frolic. His frolics might be divided 
into two classes ; viz. the moderate and immoderate. Of 
the first, he had two or three turns a year; and these were 
the occasions on which he commonly visited Satanstoe, 
or had my father with him at Rockrockarock, as his 
own place, in Rockland, was called. On these visits, 
whether to or from, there was a large consumption of tobacco, 
beer, cider, wine, rum, lemons, sugar, and the other ingre- 
dients of punch, toddy and flip ; but no outrageously durable 
excesses. There was much laughing, a great deal of <mod 
feeling, many stories, and regular repetitions of old adven- 
tures, in the way of traditional narrations ; but nothing that 


I / 




■'U 


7 






SATANSTOE. 267 

could be called decided excesses. It is true, that my grand, 
father, and my father, and the Rev. Mr. Worden, and Col. 
Follock, were much in the habit of retiring to their beds a 
little confused in their brains , the consequence of so much 
tobacco-smoke, as Mr. Worden always maintained ; but 
everything was decent, and in order. The parson, for in- 
stance, invariably pulled up on a Friday; and did not take 
his place in the circle until Monday evening, again ; which 
gave him fully twenty-four hours, to cool off in, before he 
ascended the pulpit. I will say this, for Mr. Worden, that 
he was very systematic and methodical in the observance of 
all his duties ; and I have known him, when he happened 
to be late at dinner, on discovering that my father had 
omitted to say grace, insist on everybody’s laying down 
their knives and forks, while he asked a blessing; even 
though it were after the fish was actually eaten. No, no ; 
Mr. Worden was a particular person, about all such things; 
and it was generally admitted, that he had been the means 
of causing grace to be introduced into several families, in 
Westchester ; in which it had never been the practice to 
have it, before his examples and precepts were known to 
them. 

I had not been acquainted with Guert Ten Eyck a fort- 
night, before I saw he had a tendency to the same sort of 
excesses as those to which Col. Van Valkenburgh was ad- 
dicted. There was an old French Huguenot living near 
Satanstoe — or rather, the son of one, who still spoke his 
father’s language — and who used to call Col. Follock’s 
frolics his “ grands covchers ,” and his “ petit couchers 

* In plain English, the “ great go-to-bed,” and the “ little go-to- 
bed.” There may be a portion of our readers who are not aware that 
the word “levee,” meaning a morning reception by a great man, is 
derived from the French “ lever,” which means “to rise,” or “ to get 
up.” The kings of France were in the habit of receiving homage at 
their morning toilets ; a strange custom, that doubtless had its origin 
in the empressement of the courtier to inquire how his master had 
slept; which receptions were divided into two classes, the 11 grand 
lever," and the '■'■petit lever" — the“ great getting-up” or the “little 
getting-up.” The first was an occasion of more state than the last. 
Even down to the time of Charles X., the court papers seldom went a 
week without announcing that the king had signed the contract of 
marriage — a customary compliment in France, among friends of this 
or that personage — at the “ grand lever,” or at the “ petit lever ;” the 


268 


S AT ANSTOE. 


inasmuch as he usually got to bed at the last, without assist- 
ance ; while at the first, it was indispensable that some aid 
should be proffered. It was these “ grands couchers” at 
which my father never assisted. On these occasions, the 
colonel invariably held his orgies over in Rockland, in the 
society of men of purely Dutch extraction ; there being 
something exclusive in the enjoyment. I have heard it said 
that these last frolics sometimes lasted a week, on really im- 
portant occasions; during the whole of which time the 
colonel and all near him were as happy as lords. These 
“ grands couchers ,” however, occurred but rarely — coming 
round, as it might be, like leap-years, just to regulate the 
calendar, and adjust the time. 

As for my new friend, Guert, he made no manifestation 
towards a “ grand coucher ” during the time I remained at 
Albany — this his attachment to Mary Wallace forbade — but, 
I discovered by means of hints and allusions, that he had 
been engaged in one or two such affairs, and that there was 
still a longing for them in his bones. It was owing to her 
consciousness of the existence of such weaknesses, and her 
own strong aversion to anything of the sort, that, I am per- 
suaded, Mary Wallace was alone induced to hesitate about 
accepting Guert’s weekly offer, of his hand. The tenderness 
she evidently felt for him, now shone too obviously in her 
eyes, to leave any doubt in my mind of Guert’s final success ; 
for what woman ever refused long to surrender, when the 
image of the besieger had taken its place in the citadel of 
her heart ! Even Anneke received Guert with much favour, 
after his excellent behaviour on the river ; and I fancied that 
everything was going on most flatteringly for my friend, 
while it seemed to me that I made no advances in my own 
suit. Such, at least, were my notions on the subject, at the 
very moment when my new friend, as it appeared, was 
nearly driven to desperation. 

It was near the end of April, or about a month after our 
perilous adventure on the ice, that Guert came to seek me, 
one fine spring morning, with something very like despair 
depicted in his fine, manly face. During the whole of that 
month, it ought to be premised, I had not dared to speak of 

first, I believe, but an* not certain, being the greater honour of tho 
two. — E ditor. 


S AT ANSTOE. 


269 


love to Anneke. My attentions and visits were incessant 
and pointed, but my tongue had been silent. The diffidence of 
real admiration had held me tongue-tied ; and I foolishly fan- 
cied there would be something like presuming on the services 
I had so lately rendered, in urging my suit so soon after the 
occurrence of the events I have described. I had even the 
romance to think it might be taking an undue advantage 
of Bulstrode, to wish to press my claims at a moment when 
the common object of our suit might be supposed to feel the 
influence of a lively gratitude. These were the notions and 
sentiments of a very young man, it must be confessed ; but 
I do not know that I ought to feel ashamed of them. At 
all events, they existed ; and they had produced the effect I 
have mentioned, leaving me to fall, each day, more despe- 
rately in love, while I made no sensible advances in prefer- 
ring my suit. Guert was very much in the same situation, 
with this difference, however ; he made it a point to offer 
himself, distinctly, each Monday morning, invariably receiv- 
ing for an answer “ no if the lady were to be pressed for 
a definite reply ; but leaving some glimmering of hope, 
should time be given for her to make up her mind. The 
visit of Guert’s, to which I have just alluded, was after one 
of the customary offers, and usual replies ; the offer direct, 
and the “ no,” tempered by the doubting and thoughtful 
brow, the affectionate smile, and the tearful eye. 

“ Corny,” said my friend, throwing down his hat with a 
most rueful aspect; for, winter having departed, and spring 
come, we had all laid aside our fur-caps — “ Corny, I have 
just been refused again ! That word, ‘ no,’ has got to be so 
common with Mary Wallace, that I am afraid her tongue will 
never know how to utter a ‘ yes 1’ Do you know, Corny, I 
have a great mind to consult Mother Doortje !” 

“Mother who? — You do not mean Mr. Mayor’s cook, 
surely 1” 

“ No ; Mother Doortje. She is said to be the best fortune- 
teller that has ever lived in Albany. But, perhaps, you do 
not believe in fortune-tellers; some people I know do not?” 

“ I cannot say that I have much belief, or unbelief, on 
the subject, never having seen anything of that sort.” 

“ Have they, then, no fortune-teller, no person who has 
the dark art, in New York ?” 

23 * 


270 


S AT ANSTOE. 


“ I have heard of such people, but have never had an 
opportunity of seeing or hearing for myself. If you do go 
to see this Mother Dorrichy, or whatever you call her, I 
should like amazingly to be of the party.”* 

Guert was delighted to hear this, and he caught eagerly 
at the offer. If I would stand his friend he would go at 
once ; but he confessed he did not like to trust himself all 
alone in the old woman’s company. 

“ I am, perhaps, the only man of my time of life, in 
Albany, who has not, sooner or later, consulted Mother 
Doortje he added. “ I do not know how it is, but, some- 
how , I have never liked to tempt fortune by going to ques- 
tion her ! One never can tell what such a being may say ; 
and should it be evil, why it might make a man very miser- 
able. I am sure I want no more trouble, as it is, than to 
find Mary Wallace so undetermined about having me!” 

“ Then you do not mean to go, after all ! I am not only 
ready, but anxious to accompany you.” 

“ You mistake me, Corny. Go I will, now, though she 
tell me that which will cause me to cut my throat — but, we 
must not go as we are ; we must disguise ourselves, in order 
that she may not know us. Everybody goes disguised ; and 
then they have an opportunity of learning if she is in a good 
vein, or not, by seeing if she can tell anything about their 
business, or habits, in the first place. If she fail in that, I 
should not care a straw for any of the rest. So, go to work, 
Corny, and dress yourself for the occasion — borrow some 
clothes of the people in the house, here, and come round to 
me, as soon as you please ; I shall be ready, for I often go 
disguised to frolics — yes, unlucky devil that I am, and come 
back disguised, too ! 

Everything was done, as desired. By means of a servant 
in the tavern, I was soon equipped in a way that satisfied 
me was very successful ; inasmuch as I passed Dirck, in 
quitting the house, and my old, confidential friend did not 
recognise me. Guert was in as good luck, as I actually 
asked himself for himself, when he opened the door for my 

* Doortje — pronounced Doort-yay — means Dorothea. Mr. Little- 
page uses a sort of corruption of the pronunciation. I well remem 
ber a fortune-teller of that name, in Albany ; though it could not have 
been the Doortje of 1758. — Editor. 


SATAN ST rOE, 


271 


admission. The laugh, and the handsome face, however, 
soon let me into the secret, and we sallied forth in high 
spirits ; almost forgetting our misgivings concerning the 
future, in the fun of passing our acquaintances in the street, 
without being known. 

Guert was much more artistically and knowingly dis- 
guised, than I was myself. We both had put on the clothes 
of labourers ; Guert wearing a smock-frock that he hap- 
pened to own for his fishing occupations in summer — but I 
had my usual linen in view, and wore all the ordinary minor 
articles of my daily attire. My friend pointed out some of 
these defects, as we went along, and an attempt' was made 
to remedy them. Mr. Worden coming in view, I determined 
to stop him, and speak to him in a disguised voice, in order 
to ascertain if it were possible to deceive him. 

“ Your sarvant, Tominie,” I said, making an awkward 
bow, as soon as we got near enough to the parson to ad- 
dress him ; “ be you ter Tominie, that marries folk on a 
pinch ?” 

“Ay, or on a handful, liking the last best. — Why, Corny, 
thou rogue, what does all this mean 1” 

It was necessary to let Mr. Worden into the secret; and 
he no sooner learned the business we were on, than he ex- 
pressed a wish to be of the party. As there was no declin- 
ing, we now went to the inn, and gave him time to assume 
a suitable disguise. As the divine was a rigid observer of 
the costume of his profession, and was most strictly a man 
of his cloth , it was a very easy matter for him to make such 
a change in his exterior, as completely to render him incog- 
nito . When all was ready, we went finally forth, on our 
errand. 

“ I go with you, Corny, on this foolish business,” said the 
Rev. Mr. Worden, as soon as we were fairly on our way, 
“ to comply with a promise made your excellent mother, not 
to let you stray into any questionable company, without 
keeping a fatherly eye over you. Now, I regard a fortune- 
teller’s, as a doubtful sort of society ; therefore, I feel it to 
be a duty, to make one of this party.” 

I do not know whether the Rev. Mr. Worden succeeded 
in deceiving himself; but, I very well know, he did not suc- 
ceed in deceiving me. The fact was, he loved a frolic ; and 


272 


SATANSTOE. 


nothing made him happier, than to have an opportunity of 
joining in just such an adventure as that we were on. 
Judging from the position of her house, and the appearance 
of things in and around it, the business of Mother Doortje 
was not of the most lucrative sort. Dirt and poverty were 
two things not easily encountered, in Albany ; and, I do not 
say, that we found very positive evidence of either, here; 
but there was less neatness than was usual in that ultra- 
tidy community ; and, as for any great display of abun- 
dance, it was certainly not to be met with. 

We were admitted by a young woman, who gave us to 
understand- that Mother Doortje had a couple of customers, 
already ; but she invited us to sit down in an outer room, 
promising that our turn should be the next. We did so, ac- 
cordingly, listening, through a door that was a little ajar, 
with no small degree of curiosity, to what was passing 
within. I accidentally took a seat in a place that enabled 
me to see the legs of one of the fortune-teller’s customers ; 
and, I thought, immediately, that the striped stockings were 
familiar to me; when the nasal, and very peculiar intona- 
tion of Jason, put the matter out of all doubt. He spoke in 
an earnest manner ; which rendered him a little incautious ; 
while the woman’s tones were low and mumbled. Notwith- 
standing, we all overheard the following discourse — 

“ Well, now, Mother Dorrichay,” said Jason, in a very 
confiding sort of way, “ I ’ve paid you well, for this here 
business, and I want to know if there is any chance, for a 
poor man, in this colony, who doesn’t want for friends, or, 
for that matter, merit?” 

“That’s yourself” mumbled the female voice — in the 
way one announces a discovery — “ yes, I see, by the cards, 
that your question applies to yourself. You are a young 
man, that wants not for friends ; and you have merit ! You 
have friends that you deserve; the cards tells me that!” 

“ Well, I ’ll not deny the truth of what you assert; and, I 
must say, Dirck, it is a little strange, this woman, who 
never saw me before, should know me so well — my very 
natur’, as it might be. But, do you think, I shall do well 
to follow up the affair I am now on, or that I had best srive* 
it up?” 

“ Give up nothing,” answered the oracle, in a very ora 


S AT ANSTOE. 


273 


cular manner, shuffling the cards as she spoke ; “ no, give 
up nothing, but keep all you can. That is the way to 
thrive, in this world.” 

“ By the Hokey, Dirck, she gives good advice, and I think 
[ shall follow it ! But how about the land, and the mill- 
seat — or, rather, how about the particular things I ’m think- 
ing about ?” 

“You are thinking of purchasing — yes, the cards say 
purchasing ; or is it ‘ disposing — ’ ” 

“ Why, as I ’ve got none to sell, it can’t very well bo 
disposing, Mother.” 

“ Yes, I ’m right — this Jack of Clubs settles the matter — 
you are thinking of buying some land — Ah ! there ’s water 
running down-hill ; and here I see a pond — Why, you are 
thinking of buying a rnill-seat.” 

“ By the Hokey ! — Who would have thought this, Dirck !” 

“ Not a mill ; no, there is no mill built; but a mill-sea^. 
Six, king, three and an ace ; yes, I see how it is — and you 
wish to get this mill-seat at much less than its real value. 
Much less ; not less, but much less.” 

“ Well, this is wonderful ! I ’ll never gainsay fortin-tel- 
lin’ ag’in !” exclaimed Jason. “ Dirck, you are to say 
nothin’ of this, or think nothin’ of this — as it’s all in con- 
fidence, you know. Now, jist put in a last word, about the 
end of life, Mother, and I’ll be satisfied. What you have 
told me about my fortin and earnin’s must be true, I think, for 
my whole heart is in them ; but I should like to know, after 
enjoying so much wealth and happiness as you ’ve foretold, 
what sort of an end I am to make of it?” 

“An excellent end — full of grace, and hope, and Christian 
faith. I see here, something that looks like a clergyman’s 
gown — white sleeves — book under the arm — ” 

“ That can’t be me, Mother, as I ’m no lover of forms, 
but belong to the platform.” 

“ Oh ! I see how it is, now ; you dislike Church of Eng- 
land people, and could throw dirt at them. Yes, yes — here 
you are — a presbyterian deacon, and one that can lead in a 
private meeting, on an occasion.” 

“ Come, Dirck, I ’m satisfied — let us go ; we have kept 
Mother Doorichaise long enough, and I heard some visiters 
come in, just now. Thank you, mother-thank you, with 


SATAN STOE. 


274 

all my heart; I think there must be some truth in this fortin- 
tellin’ after all !” 

Jason now arose, and walked out of the house, without 
even deigning to look at us — and consequently without our 
being recognised. But Dirck lingered a minute, not yet 
satisfied with what had been already told him. 

“ Do you really think I shall never be married, Mother]” 
he asked, in a tone that sufficiently betrayed the importance 
he attached to the answer. “ I wish to know that particu- 
larly, before I go away !” 

“ Young man,” answered the fortune-teller in an oracular 
manner ; “ what has been said, has been said ! I cannot 
make fortunes, but only reveal them. You have heard that 
Dutch blood is in your veins; but you live in an English 
colony. Your king is her king; while she is your queen — 
and you are not her master. If you can find a woman of 
English blood that has a Dutch heart, and has no English 
suitors, go forward, and you will succeed; but, if you do 
not, remain as you are until time shall end. These are my 
words, and these are my thoughts ; I can say no more.” 

I heard Dirck sigh — poor fellow! he was thinking of 
Anneke — and he passed through the outer room without 
once raising his eyes from the floor. He left Mother Doortje, 
as much depressed in spirits, as Jason had left her elated; 
the one looking forward to the future with a selfish and 
niggardly hope, while the other regarded it with a feeling as 
forlorn as the destruction of all his youthful fancies could 
render any view of his after-life. The reader may feel dis- 
posed to smile at the idea of Dirck Van Valkenburgh’s 
possessing youthful fancies — regarding the young man in 
the quiet, unassuming manner in which he has hitherto been 
portrayed by me; but it would be doing great injustice to 
his heart and feelings, to figure him to the mind, as a being 
without deep sensibilities. I have always supposed that this 
interview with Mother Doortje had alasting influence on the 
fortunes of poor Dirck ; nor am I at all certain its effects 
did not long linger in the temperament of some others that 
might be named. 

As our turns had now come, we were summoned to the 
presence of this female soothsayer. It is unnecessary to de- 
scribe the apartment in which we found Mother Doortje. 


♦ 


SATANSTOE. 279 

answer before the lady is ready to give it. Men must learp 
to wait.” 

“ She really seems to know all about it, Corny ! Much 
as I have heard of this woman, she exceeds it all ! Good 
Mother, can you tell me how I can gain the consent of the 
woman I love?” 

“ That is only to be had by asking. Ask once, ask twice, 
ask thrice.” 

“By St. Nicholas! I have asked, already, twenty times I 
If asking would do it, she would have been my wife a month 
since. What do you think, Corny — no, I ’ll not do it — it is 
not manly to get the secrets of a woman’s heart, by means 
like these — I ’ll not ask her!” 

“ The crown is paid, and the truth must be said. The 
lady you love, loves you, and she does not love you ; she 
will have you, and she won’t have you ; she thinks yes, and 
she says rco.” 

Guert now trembled all over, like an aspen-leaf. 

“ I do not believe there is any harm, Corny, in asking 
whether I gained or lost by the affair of the river? I will 
ask her that much, of a certainty. Tell me, Mother, am I 
better or worse, for a certain thing that happened about a 
month ago — about the time that the ice went, and that we 
had a great freshet?” 

“ Guert Ten Eyck, why do you try me thus ?” demanded 
the fortune-teller, solemnly. “ I knew your father, and I 
knew your mother; I knew your ancestors in Holland, and 
their children in America. Generations on generations have 
I known your people, and you are the first that I have seen 
so ill-clad ! Do you suppose, boy, that old Doortje’s eyes 
are getting dim, and that she cannot tell her own nation? 
I saw you on the river — ha ! ha ! ’t was a pleasant sight — 
Jack and and Moses, too ; how they snorted, and how they 
galloped l Crack — crack — that’s the ice — there comes the 
water ! — See, that bridge may hit you on the head ! Do you 
take care of this bird, and do you take care of that — and 
all will come round with the seasons. Answer me one thing, 
Guert Ten Eyck, and answer me truly. Know you ever a 
young man who goes quickly into the bush?” 

“ I do, Mother ; this young man, my friend, intends to go 
in a few days, or as soon as the weather is settled.” 


280 


SATANSTOE. 




“ Good ! go you with him — absence makes a young 
woman know her own mind, when asking will gain nothing. 
Go you with him, I say ; and if you hear muskets fired, 
go near them ; fear will sometimes make a young woman 
speak. You have your answer, and I will tell no more. 
Come hither, young owner of many half-jpes, and touch that 
card.” 

“ I did as ordered ; when the woman began to mumble to 
herself, and to run over the pack as rapidly as she could. 
Kings, aces, and knaves were examined, one after another, 
until she had got the Queen of Hearts in her hand, which 
she held up to me in triumph. 

“ That is your lady. She is a queen of too many hearts ! 
The Hudson did that for you, that it has done for many a 
poor man before you. Yes, yes ; the river did you good ; 
but water will drown, as well as make tears. Do you be- 
ware of Knights Barrownights !”* 

Here Mother Doortje came to a dead stand in her com- 
munications, and not another syllable of any sort could 
either of us get from her; though, between us, as many as 
twenty questions were asked. Signs were made for us to 
depart; and when the woman found our reluctance, she laid 
a crown for each of us, on the table, with a dignified air, 
and went into a corner, seated herself, and began to rock 
her body, like one impatient of our presence. After so un- 
equivocal a sign that she considered her work as done, we 
could not well do less than return ; leaving the money be- 
hind us, as a matter of course. 

* In the colony of New York, there lived but one titled man, for a 
considerable period. It was the celebrated Sir William Johnson, 
Bart., of Johnson Hall, Johnstown, Albany, now Fulton County. 
The son of Sir William Johnson was knighted during his father’s 
life-time, and was Sir John while Sir William was living. At the 
death of his father, he was Sir John Johnson, Kt. & Bart.*; and it 
was usual for the common class of people to style him a Knight, or 
BarrownigAf. — Editor. 


SATANSTOB. 


281 


CHAPTER XIX. 


Virtue, how frail it is ! 

Friendship, too rare ! 

Love, how it sells poor bliss 
For proud despair ! 

But we, though soon they fall, 
Survive their joy, and all 
Which ours we call. 

Shlllet. 


Guert Ten Eyck was profoundly impressed with what 
he had heard, in his visit to the fortune-teller. It affected 
his spirits, and, as will be seen, it influenced all his subse- 
quent conduct. As for myself, I will not say that I totally 
disregarded what had passed; though the effect was greatly 
less on me, than it was on my friend. The Rev. Mr. Wor- 
den, however, treated the matter with great disdain. He 
declared that he had never before been so insulted in his life. 
The old hag, no doubt, had seen us all before, and recog- 
nised him. Profiting by a knowledge of this sort — that was 
very easily obtained in a place of the size of Albany — she 
had taken the occasion to make the most of the low gossip 
that had been circulated at his expense. “ Loping Dominie, 
indeed,” he added ; “ as if any man would not run to save 
his life ! You saw how it was with the river, Corny, when 
it once began to break up, and know that my escape was 
marvellous. I deserve as much credit for that retreat, boy, 
as Xenophon did for his retreat with the Ten Thousand. It 
is true, 1 had not thirty-four thousand, six hundred and fifty 
stadia to retreat over ; but acts are to be estimated more by 
quality, than by quantity. The best things are always of 
an impromptu character ; and, generally, they are on a small 
scale. Then, as for all you tell me about Guert; why, the 
hussy knew him — must have known him, in a town like 
Albany, where the fellow has a character that identifies him 
with all sorts of fun and roguery. Jack, and Moses, too ! 
Do you think the inspiration of even an evil spirit, or of 
forty thousand devils, would lead a fortune-teller to name 
24 * 


282 


SATANSTOE. 


any horse Moses? Jack might do, perhaps; but Moses 
would never enter the head of even an imp ! Remember, 
lad, Moses was the great law-giver of the Jews ; and such a 
creature would be as apt to suppose a horse was named 
Confucius, as to suppose he was named Moses !” 

“ I suppose the inspiration, as you call it, sir, would lead 
a clever fortune-teller to give things as they are ; and to 
call the horses by their real names, let them be what they 
might.” 

“Ay, such inspiration as this miserable, old, wrinkled, 
impudent she-devil enjoys ! Don’t tell me, Corny ; there is 
no such thing as fortune-telling ; at least, nothing that can 
be depended on in all cases — and this is one of downright 
imposition. 4 Loping Dominie,’ forsooth !” 

Such were the Rev. Mr. Worden’s sentiments on the sub- 
ject of Mother Doortje’s revelations. He exacted a pledge 
from us all, to say nothing about the matter; nor were we 
much disposed to be communicative on the subject. As for 
Guert, Dirck, Jason, and myself, we did not hesitate to con- 
verse on the circumstances of our visits, among ourselves, 
however; and each and all of us viewed the matter some 
what differently from our Mentor. I ascertained that Jason 
had been highly gratified with what had been predicted on 
his own behalf; for what was wealth in his eyes had been 
foretold as his future lot ; and a man rarely quarrels with 
good fortune, whether in prospective, or in possession. Dirck, 
though barely twenty, began to talk of living a single life 
from this time ; and no laughter of mine could induce the 
poor lad to change his views, or to entertain livelier hopes. 
Guert was deeply impressed, as has been said ; and feeling 
no restraint in the matter of his own case, he took occasion 
to speak of his visit to the woman, one morning that Herman 
Mordaunt, the two ladies, Bulstrode, and myself, were sitting 
together, chatting, in the freedom of what had now become 
a very constant intercourse. 

“Are such things as fortune-tellers known in England, 
Mr. Bulstrode?” Guert abruptly commenced, fastening his 
eyes on Mary Wallace, as he asked the question; for on 
her were his thoughts running at the time. 

“All sorts of silly things are to be found in Old England, 
Mr. Ten Eyck, as well as some that are wise. I believe 


S AT ANSTOE , 


283 

London has one or two soothsayers ; and I think I have 
heard elderly people say that the fashion of consulting them 
has somewhat increased, since the court has been so German.” 

“ Yes,” Guert innocently replied ; “ I find it easy to be- 
lieve that ; for, it is a common saying, among our people, 
that the German and Low Dutch fortune-tellers are the best 
known. They have had, or pretend to have had, witches 
in New England ; but no one, hereabouts, puts any faith in 
the pretence. It is like all the bragging of these boastful 
Yankees !” 

I observed that Mary Wallace’s colour deepened ; and 
that, in biting off a thread, she profited, by the occasion, to 
avert her face in such a manner, that Bulstrode, in particu- 
lar, could not see it. 

“ The meaning of all this,” put in Major Bulstrode 
“ is, that our friend Guert has been to pay a visit to Mother 
Doortje’s ; a woman of some note, who lives on the hill, 
and who has a reputation, in that way, among these good 
Albanians ! Several of our mess have been to see the old 
woman.” 

» 

“ It is, Mr. Bulstrode,” Guert answered, in his manly 
way, and with a gravity which proved how much he was in 
earnest. “ I have been to see Mother Doortje, for the first 
time in my life ; and Corny Littlepage, here, was my com- 
panion. Long as I have known the woman by reputation, 
I have never had any curiosity to pay her a visit, until this 
spring. We have been, however; and, I must say, I have 
been greatly surprised at the extent of the knowledge of this 
very extraordinary person.” 

“ Did she tell you to look into the sweetmeat-pot, for the 
lost spoon, Mr. Ten Eyck,” Anneke inquired, with an arch- 
ness of eye and voice, that sent the blood to my own face, 
in confusion. “They say, that fortune-tellers send all pru- 
dent, yet careless housewives, to the sweetmeat-pots, to look 
for the lost spoons ! Many have been found, I hear, by this 
wonderful prescience.” 

“ Well, Miss Anneke, I see, you have no faith,” answered 
Guert, fidgeting; “and people who have no faith, nevei 
believe. Notwithstanding, I put so much confidence in 
what Doortje has told me, that I intend to follow her advice 
let matters turn out as they may.” 


284 


S AT AN ST OE * 


Here Mary Wallace raised her thoughtful, full, blue eyes 
to the face of the young man ; and they expressed an intense 
interest, rather than any light curiosity, that even her wo- 
man’s instinct and woman’s sensitiveness could not so far 
prevail, as to enable her to conceal. Still, Mary Wallace 
did not speak, leaving the others present to maintain the 
discourse. 

“ Of course, you mean to tell us all about it, Ten Eyck,” 
cried the Major ; “ there is nothing more likely to succeed, 
with an audience, than a good history of witchcraft, or some- 
thing so very marvellous, as to do violence to common sense, 
before we give it our faith.” 

“ Excuse me, Mr. Bulstrode ; these are things I cannot 
well mention ; though, Corny Littlepage will testify, that 
they are very wonderful. At any rate, I shall go into the 
bush, this spring ; and Littlepage and Follock, being excel- 
lent companions, I propose to join their company. It will 
be late, before the army will be ready to move ; and, by that 
time, all three of us propose to join you before Ticonderoga ; 
if, indeed, you succeed in getting so far,” 

“ Say, rather, in front of Montreal ; for, I trust, this new 
Commander-In-Chief will find something more for us to do, 
than the last one did. Shall I have a sentinel placed at 
Doortje’s door, in your absence, Guert?” 

The smile, this question produced, was general ; Guert, 
himself, joining in it ; for his good-nature was of proof. 
When I say the smile was general, however, I ought to ex- 
cept Mary Wallace, who smiled little, that morning. 

“We shall be neighbours, then,” Herman Mordaunt 
quietly observed ; “ that is to say, if you mean, by accom- 
panying Corny and Dirck to the bush, you intend to go 
with them to the patent, lately obtained by Messrs. Little- 
page and Van Valkenburgh. I have an estate, in that 
quarter, which is now ten years old ; and these ladies have 
consented to accompany me thither, as soon as the weather 
is a little more settled, and I can be assured that our army 
will be of sufficient force to protect us from the French and 
Indians.” 

It is unnecessary for me to say with what delight Guert 
and I heard this announcement ! On Bulstrode, however, it 
produced an exactly contrary effect. He did not appear, to 


S ATANSTOE. 


285 


me, to be surprised, at a declaration that was so new to 
us ; but several expressions fell from him, that showed he 
had no idea the two estates, that of Herman Mordaunt’s, and 
that which belonged to us, lay so near together. It was by 
means of his questions, indeed, that I learned the real facts 
of the case. It appeared that Herman Mordaunt’s business, 
in Albany, was to make some provisions in behalf of this 
property, on which he had caused mills to be erected, and 
some of the other improvements of a new settlement, to be 
made, two or three years before ; and which, by the pro- 
gress and events of the war, was getting to be in closer prox* 
imity to the enemy, than was desirable. Even where the 
French lay, at Ticonderoga, his mills, in particular, might 
be thought in some danger, though forty or more miles dis- 
tant ; for parties of savages, led on by white men, frequently 
marched that distance through the forests, in order to break 
up a settlement and to commit depredations. But the enemy 
had crossed Lake George, the previous summer, and had 
actually taken Fort William Henry, at its southern extre- 
mity, by siege. It is true, this was the extent of their in- 
road ; and, it was now known, that they had abandoned 
this bold conquest, and had fallen back upon Ty and Crown 
Point, two of the strongest military positions in the British 
colonies. Still, Ravensnest, as Herman Mordaunt’s pro- 
perty was called, was far from being beyond the limits of 
sorties ; and the residence, at Albany, was solely to watch 
the progress of events in that quarter, and to be near the 
scene. If he had any public employment, it remained a 
profound mystery. A new source of embarrassment had 
arisen, however ; and this it was that decided the proprietor 
to visit his lands in person.** The fifteen or twenty families 
he had succeeded in establishing on the estate, at much cost 
and trouble, had taken the alarm at the prospect of a cam- 
paign in their vicinity; and had announced an intention of 
abandoning their huts and clearings, as the course most 
expedient for the times. Two or three had already gone 
ofF towards the Hampshire Grants, whence they had origi- 
nally come ; profiting by the last of the snow ; and, it was 
feared, that others might imitate their caution. 

Herman Mordaunt saw no necessity for this abandonment 
of advantages over the wilderness, that had been obtained 


286 


SATANSTOE. 


at so much cost and trouble. The labour of a removal, 
and a return, was sufficient, of itself, to give a new direction 
to the movements of his settlers ; and, as their first entrance 
into the country had been effected through his agency, and 
aided by his means, he naturally wished to keep the people 
he had got to his estate with so much difficulty, and at so 
much cost, at their several positions, as long, at least, as he 
conceived it to be prudent. In these circumstances, there- 
fore, he had determined to visit Ravensnest in person, and 
to pass a part, if not most of the summer, among his people. 
This would give them confidence, and would enable him to 
infuse new life into their operations. It would seem, that 
Anneke and Mary Wallace had refused to let Mr. Mordaunt 
go alone; and, believing, himself, there was no danger in 
the course he was about to take, the father and guardian, 
for Mary Wallace was Herman Mordaunt’s ward, had 
yielded to the importunities of the two girls ; and it had been 
formally decided that they were all to proceed together, as 
soon as the season should get to be a little more advanced. 
Intelligence of this intention had been sent to the settlers; 
and its effect was to induce them to remain at their posts, by 
pacifying their fears. 

I might as well add, here, what I learned subsequently, 
in the due course of events. Bulstrode had been made ac- 
quainted with Herman Mordaunt’s plans, they being sworn 
friends, and the latter warmly in the interest of the former’s 
suit ; and he had known how to profit by the information. 
It was now time to put the troops in motion ; and several 
parties had already marched towards the north, taking post 
at different points that it was thought desirable to occupy, 
previously to the commencement of the campaign. Among 
other corps under orders of this nature, was that commanded 
by Bulstrode ; and he had sufficient interest, at head-quar- 
ters, to get it sent to the point nearest to Ravensnest ; where 
it gave him the double advantage, of having it in his power 
to visit the ladies, on occasion, while, at the same time, he 
must appear, to them, somewhat in the character of a pro- 
tector. The object of Dirck and myself, in visiting the 
north, was no secret ; and, it was generally understood, that 
we were to go to Mooseridge ; but we did not know, our- 
selves, that Herman Mordaunt had an estate so near us. 


SATANSTOE. 287 

This intelligence, as has been said, I now ascertained, was 
as new to Bulstrode as it was to myself. 

The knowledge of many little things I have just men- 
tioned, was obtained by me only at intervals, and by means 
of observation and discourse. Nevertheless, the main points 
were determined on the morning on which Guert referred to 
his visit to the fortune-teller, and in the manner named. 
The conversation lasted an hour ; nor did it cease, until all 
present got a general idea of the course intended to be pur- 
sued by the different parties present, during the succeeding 
summer. 

It happened, that morning, that Bulstrode, Dirck, and 
Guert withdrew together, the two last to look at a horse the 
former had just purchased, leaving me alone with the young 
ladies. No sooner was the door closed on the retiring 
members of our party, than I saw a smile struggling about 
the handsome mouth of Anneke; Mary Wallace continuing 
the whole time thoughtful, if not sad. 

“And you were of the party at the fortune-teller’s, too, it 
seems, Mr. Littlepage,” Anneke remarked, after appearing 
to be debating with herself on the propriety of proceeding 
any farther in the subject. “ I knew there was such a pei 
son in Albany, and that thrifty housekeepers did sometimes 
consult her ; but I was ignorant that men, and educated men, 
paid her that honour.” 

“ I believe there is no exception in the way of sex or 
learning, to her influence, or her authority. They tell ,me 
that most of the younger officers of the army visit her, 
while they remain here.” 

“ I would much like to know if Mr. Bulstrode has been 
of the number ! He is young enough in years, though so 
high in rank. A major may have as much curiosity as an 
ensign ; or, as it may appear, dear Mary, of a woman who 
has lost her grandmother’s favourite dessert-spoon.” 

Mary Wallace gave a gentle sigh, and she even raised 
her eyes from her work ; still, she made no answer. 

“ You are severe on us, Anneke for, since the affair on 
the river, the whole family treated me with the familiarity 
of a son or a brother — “ I fancy we have done no more than 
Mr. Mordaunt has done in his day.” 

“ This may be very true, Corny, and not make the con 


288 


SATANSTOE. 


sultation the wisest thing in nature. I hope, however, you 
do not keep your fortune a secret, but let your friends share 
in your knowledge !” • 

“ To me the woman was far from being communicative, 
though she treated Guert Ten Eyck better. Certainly, she 
told him many extraordinary things, of the past even ; unless, 
indeed, she knew who he was.” 

“ Is it probable, Mr. Littlepage,” said Mary Wallace, 
“ that any person in Albany should not know Guert Ten 
Eyck, and a good deal of his past history ? Poor Guert 
makes himself known wherever he is !” 

“ And, often much to his advantage,” I added — a remark 
that cost me nothing ; but which caused Mary Wallace’s 
face to brighten, and even brought a faint smile to her lips. 
“All that is true ; yet there was something wild and unnatural 
in the woman’s manner, as she told these things !” 

“All of which you seem determined to keep to yourself?” 
observed Anneke, as one asks a question. 

“ It would hardly do to betray a friend’s secrets. Let 
Guert answer for himself; he is as frank as broad day, and 
will not hesitate about letting you know all.” 

“ I wish Corny Littlepage were only as frank as twilight !” 

“ I have nothing to conceal — and least of all from you, 
Anneke. The fortune-teller told me that the queen of my 
heart was the queen of too many hearts ; that the river had 
done me no harm ; and that I must particularly beware of 
what she called Knights-Barrowmg7t?s.” 

I watched Anneke closely, as I repeated this warning of 
Mother Doortje ; but could not read the expression of her 
sweet and thoughtful countenance. She neither smiled nor 
frowned ; but she certainly b.ushed. Of course, she did not 
look at me — for that would have been to challenge observa- 
tion. Mary Wallace, however, did smile, and she did look 
at me. 

“You believe all the wizzard told you, Corny?” said 
Anneke, after a short pause. 

“ I believed that the queen of my heart was the queen of 
many hearts ; that the river had done me no harm — though 
I could not say, or see, that it had done me much good ; and 
‘hat I had much to fear from Knights-Barrow/iigAte. I 


SATANSTOE. 28 {) 

believed all this, however, before I ever saw the fortune- 
teller.” 

The next remark that was made came from Anneke, and 
it referred to the weather. The season was opening finely, 
and fast ; and it could not be long before the great move- 
ments of the year must commence. Several regiments had 
arrived in the colonies, and various officers of note and rank 
had accompanied them. Among others who had thus crossed 
the Atlantic for the first time, was my Lord Howe, a young 
soldier of whom fame spoke favourably, and from whom 
much was expected in the course of the anticipated service 
of the year. While we were talking over these things, 
Herman Mordaunt re-entered the room, after a short absence, 
and he took me with him to examine his preparations for 
transporting the ladies to Ravensnest. As we went along, the 
discourse was maintained, and I learned many things from 
my older and intelligent companion, that were new to me. 

“ New lords, new laws, they say, Corny,” continued 
Herman Mordaunt ; “ and this Mr. Pitt, the great commoner, 
as some persons call him, is bent on making the British 
empire feel the truth of the axiom. Everything is alive in 
the colonies, and the sluggish period of Lord Loudon’s com- 
mand is passed. Gen. Abercrombie, an officer from whom 
much is expected, is now at the head of the King’s troops, 
and there is every prospect of an active and most important 
campaign. The disgraces of the few last years must be 
wiped out, and the English name be made once more to be 
dreaded on this continent. The Lord Howe of whom An- 
neke spoke, is said to be a young man of merit, and to pos 
sess the blood of our Hanoverian monarchs; his mother 
being a half-sister, in the natural way, of his present Ma- 
jesty.” 

Herman Mordaunt then spoke more fully of his own 
plans for the summer — expressed his happiness at knowing 
that Dirck and myself were to be what he called his neigh- 
bours — though, on a more exact computation, it was ascer- 
tained, that the nearest boundaries of the two patents, that 
of Ravensnest, and that of Mooseridge, lay quite fourteen 
miles apart, with a dense and virgin forest between them. 
Nevertheless, this would be making us neighbours, in a 
certain sense; as gentlemen always call men of their own 
26 


290 


SAT AN STOE. 


class neighbours, when they live within visiting distance, or 
near enough to be seen once or twice in a year. And such 
men are neighbours, in the sense that is most essential to 
the term — they know each other better ; understand each 
other better ; sympathize more freely ; have more of the 
intercourse that makes us judges of motives, principles, and 
character, twenty-fold, than he who lives at the gate, and 
merely sees the owner of the grounds pass in and out, on 
his daily avocations. There is, and can be no greater ab- 
surdity, than to imagine that the sheer neighbourhood, or 
proximity of position, makes men acquainted. That was 
one of Jason Newcome’s Connecticut notions. Having been 
educated in a state of society in which all associated on a 
certain footing of intimacy, and in which half the difficulties 
that occurred were “ told to the church,” he was for ever 
fancying he knew all the gentry of Westchester, because he 
had lived a year or two in the county ; when, in fact, he had 
never spoken to one in a dozen of them. I never could 
drive this notion out of his head, however ; for looking often 
at a man, or occasionally exchanging a bow with him on 
the highway, he would insist was knowing him, or what he 
called, being “ well acquainted a very favourite expres- 
sion of the Danbury man’s ; though their sympathies, habits, 
opinions, and feelings, created so vast a void between the 
parties, they hardiy understood each other’s terms, and or- 
dinary language, when they did begin to converse, as some- 
times happened. Notwithstanding all this, Jason insisted to 
the last that he knew every gentleman in the county, whom 
he had been accustomed to hear alluded to in discourse, and 
when he had seen them once or twice, though it were only 
at church. But Jason had a very flattering notion, gene- 
rally, of his own acquisitions on all subjects. 

Herman Mordaunt had made careful provision for the 
contemplated journey ; having caused a covered vehicle to 
be constructed, that could transport not only himself and 
the ladies, but many articles of furniture that would be re- 
quired during their residence in the forest. Another con- 
veyance, strong, spacious, and covered, was also prepared 
for the blacks, and another portion of the effects. He 
pointed out all these arrangements to me with great satis- 
faction, dwelling on the affection and spirit of the girls with 


SAT ANSTOE. 


291 


a pleasure he did not affect to conceal. For my own part, 
I have always been of opinion, that Anneke was solely in- 
fluenced by pure, natural regard, in forming her indiscreet 
resolution ; while her father was governed by the secret ex- 
pectation that the movement would leave open the means of 
receiving visits and communications from Bulstrode, during 
most of the summer. I commended the arrangements, made 
one or two suggestions of my own in behalf of Anneke and 
Mary, and we returned to our several homes. 

A day or two after this visit to the workshops, and the 

conversation related, the th took up its line of march 

for the north. The troops defiled through the narrow streets 
in the neighbourhood of the barracks, half an hour after 
the appearance of the sun, preceded and followed by a long 
train of baggage-wagons. They marched without tents, 
however, it being well understood that they were going into 
a region where the axe could at any time cover thousands 
of men, in about the time that a camp could be laid out, 
and the canvass spread. Hutting was the usual mode of 
placing an army under cover in the forest ; and a dozen 
marches would take the battalion to the point where it was 
intended it should remain, as a support to two or three other 
corps still further in advance, and to keep open the commu- 
nications. 

Bulstrode, however, did not quit Albany in company with 
his regiment. I had been invited, with Guert and Dirck, to 
breakfast at Herman Mordaunt’s that morning; and, as we 
approached the door, I saw the Major’s groom walking his 
own and his master’s horse, in the street, near by. This 
was a sign we were to have the pleasure of Bulstrode’s com- 
pany at breakfast. Accordingly, on entering the room, we 
found him present, in the uniform of an officer of his rank, 
about to commence a march in the forests of America. I 
thought him melancholy, as if sad at parting ; but my most 
jealous observation could detect no sign of similar feeling 
on the part of Anneke. She was not quite as gay as usual, 
but she was far from being sad. 

“ I leave you, ladies, with the deepest regret,” said Bul- 
strode, while at table, “ for you have made this country 
more than a home to me — you have rendered it dear? 

This was said with feeling ; more than I had ever seen 


292 


SATAN STOE. 


JBulstrode manifest before, and more than I had given him 
credit for possessing. Anneke coloured a little ; but there 
was no tremor in the beautiful hand, that held a highly- 
wrought little tea-pot suspended over a cup, at that very 
moment. 

“ We shall soon meet again, Harry,” Herman Mordaunt 
remarked, in a tone of strong affection ; “ for, our party will 
not be a week behind you. Remember, we are to be good 
neighbours, as well as neighbours ; and, if the mountain 
will not come to Mahomet, Mahomet must go to the moun- 
tain.” 

“Which means, Mr. Bulstrode,” said Mary Wallace, with 
one of her sweet smiles, and one that was as open and na- 
tural as childhood itself, “ that you are Mahomet, and we 
are the mountain. Ladies can neither travel, with comfort, 
in a wilderness, nor visit a camp, with propriety, if they 
would.” 

“ They tell me, I shall not be in a camp at all,” answered 
the soldier ; “ but in good, comfortable log-barracks, that 
have been built for us by the battalion we relieve. I am 
not without hopes, they will be such as even ladies will not 
disdain to use, on an emergency. There ought to be no 
Mahomet, and no mountain, between such old and intimate 
friends.” 

The conversation then turned on the plans and expecta- 
tions of the respective parties ; and the usual promises were 
made, of being sociable and good neighbours, as had just 
been suggested. Herman Mordaunt evidently wished to 
consider Bulstrode as one of his family ; a feeling that might 
excuse itself to the world, on the score of consanguinity ; 
but which, it was easy enough, for me, to see, had its origin 
in a very different cause. When Bulstrode rose to take his 
leave, I wished myself away, on account of the exhibition 
of concern it produced ; while the desire to watch the effect 
on Anneke, would have kept me rooted to the floor, even 
had it been proper that I should retire. 

Bulstrode was more affected than I could have thought 
possible, He took one of Herman Mordaunt’s hands into 
his own, and pressed it warmly, for some little time, before 
ne could speak at all. 

“ God only knows what this summer is to see, and 


SATAN STOE. 


293 


whether we are ever to meet again, or not,” he then said ; 
“ but, come what may, the past, the happy past , is so much 
gained from the commonplace. If you never hear of me 
again, my dear kinsman, my letters to England will give 
you a better account of my gratitude, than anything I c?in 
say in words. They have been written as your kindnesses 
have been bestowed ; and they faithfully pourtray the feel- 
ings to which your hospitality and friendship have given 
rise. In a possible event, I have requested that every one 
of them may be sent to America, for your special perusal — ” 

“ Nay, my dear Harry, this is foreboding the very worst,” 
interrupted Herman Mordaunt, dashing a tear from his eye, 
“ and is making a very short separation, a more serious 
matter than one ought — ” 

“ Nay, sir, a soldier, who is about to be posted within 
striking distance of his enemy, can never speak, with confi- 
dence, of separations that are to be short. This campaign 
will be decisive, for me,” — glancing towards Anneke — “ I 
must return a conqueror, in one sense, or I do not wish to 
return at all. But, God bless you, Herman Mordaunt, as 
your own countrymen call you ; a thousand years could not 
efface from my heart, the remembrance of all your kind- 
ness.” 

This was handsomely expressed ; and the manner in 
which it was uttered, was as good as the language. Bul- 
strode hesitated a moment — looked at the two girls in doubt 
— and first approached Mary Wallace. 

“Adieu, excellent Mary Wallace,” he said, taking her 
offered hand, and kissing it with a freedom from emotion, 
that denoted it was only friendship and respect which in- 
duced the act — “ I believe, you are a severe critic on Catos 
and Scrubs ; but, I forgive all your particular backbitings, 
on account of your general indulgence and probity. You 
may meet with a thousand mere acquaintances, before you 
find another who shall have the same profound respect for 
your many virtues, as myself.” 

This was handsomely said, too ; and it caused Mary Wal- 
lace to remove the handkerchief from her eyes, and to utter 
her adieus cordially, and with some emotion. Strangers 
say that our women want feeling — passion ; or, if they have 
it, that it is veiled behind a mask of coldness, that takes 
25 * 


294 


S AT AN STOE. 


away from its loveliness and warmth ; that they are girlish 
and familiar, where they might better be reserved ; and dis- 
tant, and unnatural, where feeling and nature ought to 
assert their sway. That they have less manner , in all re- 
spects, in that of self-control, and perhaps of self-respect, in 
their ordinary intercourse, and in that of acting , where it 
may seem necessary so to do, I believe to be true ; but, he 
who denies an American girl a heart, knows nothing about 
her. She is all heart ; and the apparent coldness is oftener 
the consequence of not daring to trust her feelings, and her 
general dislike to everything artificial, than to any want of 
affections. Two girls, educated, however, as had been 
Anneke and Mary Wallace, could not but acquit themselves 
better, in such a scene, than those who had been less accus- 
tomed to the usages of polite life, which are always, more or 
less, the usages of convention. 

On the present occasion, Mary Wallace was strongly 
affected ; it would not have been possible, for one of her 
gentle nature and warm affections, to be otherwise, when an 
agreeable companion, one she had now known intimately 
near two years, was about to take his leave of her, on an 
errand that he himself either thought, or affected so well to 
seem to think, might lead to the most melancholy issue. 
She shook hands with Bulstrode, warmly ; wished him good 
fortune, and various other pleasant things ; thanked him for 
his good opinion, and expressed her hope, as well as her 
belief, that they should all meet again before the summer 
was over, and again be happy in each other’s society. 

Anneke’s turn came next. Her handkerchief was at her 
eyes ; and, when it was removed, the face was pale, and the 
cheeks were covered with tears. The smile that followed, 
was sweetness itself ; and, I will own, it caused me a most 
severe pang. To my surprise, Bulstrode said nothing. He 
took Anneke’s hand, pressed it to his heart, kissed it, left a 
note in it, bowed, and moved away. I felt ashamed to watch 
the countenance of Miss Mordaunt, under such circumstances, 
and turned aside, that observation might not increase the 
distress and embarrassment she evidently felt. I saw 
enough, notwithstanding, to render me more uncertain than 
ever, as to the success of my own suit. Anneke’s colour 
had come and gone, as Bulstrode stood near her, acting his 


SAT ANSTOE. 


295 


dumb-show of leave-taking ; and, to me, she seemed fai 
more affected than Mary Wallace had been. Nevertheless, 
her feelings were always keener and more active than those 
of her friend ; and, that which my sensitiveness took for the 
emotion of tenderness, might be nothing more than ordinary 
womanly feeling and friendship. Besides, Bulstrode was 
actually her relative. 

We men all attended Bulstrode to his horse. He shook 
us cordially by the hand ; and, after he had got into the 
saddle, he said — “This summer will be warmer than is 
usual, even in your warmy-cold climate. My letters from 
home give me reason to think that there is, at last, a man 
of talents at the head of affairs ; and the British empire is 
likely to feel the impulse he will give it, at its most remote 
extremities. I shall expect you three young men to join the 

th, as volunteers, as soon as you hear of our moving in 

advance. I wish I had a thousand like you ; for that affair 
of the river tells where a man will be found when the time 
comes. God bless you, Corny !” leaning forward in his 
saddle, to give me another shake of the hand ; “ we must 
remain friends, coute qui coute .” 

There was no withstanding this frankness, and so much 
good-temper. We shook hands most cordially; Bulstrode 
raised his hat and bowed ; after which he rode away, as I 
fancied, at a slow, thoughtful, reluctant pace. Notwith- 
standing the kindness of this parting, I had more cause than 
ever to regret Bulstrode had appeared among us ; and the 
scenes of that morning only confirmed me in a resolution, 
previously adopted, not to urge Anneke to any decision, in 
my case, at a moment when I felt there might be so much 
danger it would be adverse. 


SATAN STOE. 


2U6 


CHAPTER XX. 

“Come, let a proper text be read, 

An’ touch it aff wi’ vigour, 

How graceless Ham leugh at his dad, 

Which made Canaan a nigger.” 

Burns. 

Ten days after the departure of the th, Herman 

Mordaunt and his family, with our own party, left Albany, 
on the summer’s business. In that interval, however, great 
changes had taken place in the military aspect of things. 
Several regiments of King’s troops ascended the Hudson , 
most of the sloops on the river, of which there could not 
have been fewer than thirty or forty, having been em- 
ployed in transporting them and their stores. Two or three 
corps came across the country, from the eastern colonies, 
while several provincial regiments appeared ; everything 
tending to a concentration at this point, the head of naviga- 
tion on the Hudson. Among other men of mark, who ac- 
companied the troops, was Lord Viscount Howe, the noble- 
man of whom Herman Mordaunt had spoken. He bore the 
local rank of Brigadier,* and seemed to be the very soul of 
the army. It was not his personal consideration alone, that 
placed him so high in the estimation of the public and of 
the troops, but his professional reputation, and professional 
services. There were many young men of rank in the 
army present ; and, as for younger sons of peers, there were 
enough to make honourables almost as plenty, at Albany, 
as they were at Boston. Most of the colonial families of 
mark had sons in the service, too ; those of the middle and 
southern colonies bearing commissions in regular regiments , 

* The ordinary American reader may not know that the rank of 
Brigadier, in the British army, is not a step in the regular line of 
promotion, as with us. In England, the regular military gradations 
are from Colonel to Major-general, Lieut. General, General, and Field 
Marshal. The rank of Brigadier is barely recognised, like that of 
Commodore, in the navy, to be used on emergencies ; usually as bre- 
vet, local rank, to enable the government to employ clever colonel* 
at need. 


SAT ANSTOE. 


297 


while the provincial troops from the eastern were led, as 
was very usual, in that quarter of the country, by men of 
the class of yeomen, in a great degree ; the habits of equality 
that prevailed in those provinces making few distinctions, on 
the score of birth or fortune. 

Yet it was said, I remember, that obedience was as 
marked, among the provincials from Massachusetts and 
Connecticut, as among those that came from farther south ; 
the men deferring to authority, as the agent of the laws. 
They were fine troops, too ; better than our own colony 
regiments, I must acknowledge ; seeming to belong to a 
higher class of labourers ; while, it must be admitted, that 
most of their officers were no very brilliant representatives 
of manners, acquirements, or habits, that would be likely to 
qualify them for command. It must have been that the 
officers and men suited each other ; for, it was said all round, 
that they stood well, and fought very bravely, whenever 
they were particularly well led, as did not always happen to 
be the case. As a body of mere physical men, they were 
universally allowed to be the finest corps in the army, regu- 
lars and all included. 

I saw Lord Howe two or three times, particularly at the 
residence of Madam Schuyler, the lady I have already had 
occasion to mention, and to whom I had given the letter of 
introduction procured by my mother, the Mordaunts visiting 
her with great assiduity, and frequently taking me with 
them. As for Lord Howe, himself, he almost lived under 
the roof of excellent Madam Schuyler ; where, indeed, all 
the good company assembled at Albany, was, at times, to 
be seen. 

Our party was a large one ; and, it might have passed for 
a small corps of the army itself, moving on in advance ; as 
was the case with corps, or parts of corps, now, almost daily. 
Herman Mordaunt had delayed our departure, indeed, ex- 
pressly with a view to render the country safe, by letting it 
fill with detachments from the army ; and our progress, 
when we were once in motion, was literally from post to 
post ; encampment to encampment. It may be well to enu- 
merate our force, and to relate the order of our march, that 
the reader may better comprehend the sort of business we 
were on. 


298 


S AT ANSTOE. 


Herman Mordaunt took with him, in addition to the ladies, 
a black cook, and a black serving-girl; a negro-man, to 
take care of his horses, and another as his house-servant. 
He had three white labourers, in addition — men employed 
about the teams, and as axe-men, to clear the woods, bridge 
the streams, and to do other work of that nature, as it might 
be required. On our side, there were us three gentlemen, 
Yaap, my own faithful negro, Mr. Traverse, the surveyor, 
two chain-bearers, and two axe-men. Guert Ten Eyck 
carried with him, also, a negro-man, who was called Pete ; 
it being contrary to bonos mores to style him Peter or Pe- 
trus ; the latter being his true appellation. This made us 
ten men strong, of whom eight were white, and two black. 
Herman Mordaunt mustered, in all, just the same number, 
of which, however, four were females. Thus, by uniting 
our forces, we made a party of twenty souls, altogether. 
Of this number, all the males, black and white, were well 
armed, each man owning a good rifle, and each of the gen- 
tlemen a brace of pistols in addition. We carried the latter 
belted to our bodies, with the weapons, which were small 
and fitted to the service, turned behind, in such a way as to 
be concealed by our outer garments. The belts were also 
hid by the flaps of our nether garments. By this arrange- 
ment, we were well armed without seeming to be so ; a pre- 
caution that is sometimes useful in the woods. 

It is hardly necessary to say, that we did not plunge into 
the forest in the attire in which we had been accustomed to 
appear in the streets of New York and Albany. Cocked 
hats were laid aside altogether ; forest caps, resembling in 
form those we had worn in the winter, with the exception 
that the fur had been removed, being substituted. The ladies 
wore light beavers, suited to their sex ; there being little 
occasion for any shade for the face, under the dense cano- 
pies of the forest. Veils of green, however, were added, as 
the customary American protection for the sex. Anneke 
and Mary travelled in habits, made of light woman’s cloth, 
and in a manner to fit their exquisite forms like gloves. The 
skirts were short, to enable them to walk with ease, in the 
event of being compelled to go a-foot. A feather or two, in 
each hat, had not been forgotten — the offering of the natural 
propensity of their sex, to please the eyes of men 


SATANSTOE. 


299 


As for us men, buckskin formed the principal material 
of our garments. We all wore buckskin breeches, and 
gaiters, and moccasins. The latter, however, had the white- 
man’s soles ; though Guert took a pair or two with him that 
were of the pure Indian manufacture. Each of us had a 
coatee, made of common cloth ; but we all carried hunting- 
shirts, to be worn as soon as we entered the woods. These 
hunting-shirts, green in colour, fringed and ornamented gar- 
ments, of the form of shirts to be worn over all, were ex- 
ceedingly smart in appearance, and were admirably suited 
to the woods. It was thought that the fringes, form, and 
colour, blended them so completely with the foliage, as to 
render them in a manner invisible to one at a distance ; or, 
at least, undistinguished. They were much in favour with 
all the forest corps of America, and formed the usual uni- 
form of the riflemen of the woods, whether acting against 
man, or only against the wild beasts. 

Neither Mr. Worden, nor Jason, moved with the main 
party ; and it was precisely on account of these distinctions 
of dress. As for the divine, he was so good a stickler for 
appearances, he would have worn the gown and surplice, 
even on a mission to the Indians ; which, by-the-way, was 
ostensibly his present business ; and, at the several occa- 
sions, on which I saw him at cock-fights, he kept on the 
clerical coat and shovel-hat. In a word, Mr. Worden never 
neglected externals, so far as dress was concerned ; and, I 
much question, if he would have consented to read prayers 
without the surplice, or to preach without the gown, let the 
desire for spiritual provender be as great as it might. I 
very well remember to have heard my father say, that, on 
one occasion, the parson had refused to officiate of a Sun- 
day, when travelling, rather than bring discredit on the 
church, by appearing in the discharge of his holy office, 
without the appliances that belonged to the clerical charac- 
ter. 

“ More harm than good is done to religion, Mr. Little- 
page,” said the Rev. Mr. Worden, on that occasion, “ by 
thus lessening its rites in vulgar eyes. The first thing is 
to teach men to respect holy things, my dear sir ; and a 
clergyman in his gown and surplice, commands threefold 
the respect of one without them. I consider it, therefore, a 


300 


S AT ANSTOE. 


sacred duty to uphold the dignity of my office on all occa- 
sions.” 

It was in consequence of these opinions, that the divine 
travelled in his clerical hat, clerical coat, black breeches, 
and band, even when in pursuit of the souls of red men 
among the wilds of North America ! I will not take it upon 
myself to say, these observances had not their use ; but I 
am very certain they put the reverend gentleman to a great 
deal of inconvenience. 

As for Jason, he gave a Danbury reason for travelling 
in his best. Everybody did so, in his quarter of the country ; 
and, for his part, he thought it disrespectful to strangers, to 
appear among them in old clothes ! There was, however, 
another and truer reason, and that was economy ; for the 
troops had so far raised the price of everything, that Jason 
did not hesitate to pronounce Albany the dearest place he 
had ever been in. There was some truth in this allegation ; 
and the distance from New York, being no less than one 
hundred and sixty miles — so reported — the reader will at 
once see, it was the business of quite a month, or even more, 
to re-furnish the shelves of the shop that had been emptied. 
The Dutch not only moved slow, but they were methodical ; 
and the shopkeeper whose stores were exhausted in April, 
would not be apt to think of replenishing them, until the 
regular time and season returned. 

As a consequence of these views and motives, the Rev. 
Mr. Worden and Mr. Jason Newcome left Albany twenty- 
four hours in advance of the rest of our party, with the 
understanding they were to join us at a point where the 
road led into the woods, and where it was thought the cocked 
hat and the skin cap might travel in company harmoniously. 
There was, however, a reason for the separation I have not 
yet named, in the fact that all of my own set travelled on 
foot, three or four pack-horses carrying our necessaries. 
Now Mr. Worden had been offered a seat in a government 
conveyance, and Jason managed to worm himself into the 
party, in some way that to me was ever inexplicable. It is, 
however, due to Mr. Newcome to confess that his faculty of 
obtaining favours of all sorts, was of a most extraordinary 
character ; and he certainly never lost any chance of pre- 
ferment for want of asking. In this respect, Jason was 


SAT ANSTOE. 


301 


always a moral enigma, to me ; there being an absolute 
absence, in his mind, of everything like a perception of the 
fitness of things, so far as the claims and rights of persons 
were connected with rank, education, birth, and experience. 
Rank, in the official sense, once possessed, he understood 
and respected ; but of the claims to entitle one to its enjoy- 
ment, he seemed to have no sort of notion. For property 
he had a profound deference, so far as that deference ex- 
tended to its importance and influence ; but it would have 
caused him not the slightest qualm, either in the way of con- 
science or feeling, to find himself suddenly installed in the 
mansion of the patroons, for instance, and placed in posses- 
sion of their estates, provided only he fancied he could 
maintain his position. The circumstance that he was dwell- 
ing under the roof that was erected by another man’s ances- 
tors, for instance, and that others were living who had a 
better moral right to it, would give him no sort of trouble, 
so long as any quirk of the law would sustain him in pos- 
session. In a word, all that was allied to sentiment, in 
matters of this nature, was totally lost on Jason Newcome, 
who lived and acted, from the hour he first came among us, 
as if the game of life were merely a game of puss in the 
corner, in which he who inadvertently left his own post un- 
protected, would be certain to find another filling his place 
as speedily as possible. I have mentioned this propensity 
of Jason’s at some little length, as I feel certain, should this 
history be carried down by my own posterity, as I hope and 
design, it will be seen that this disposition to regard the 
whole human family as so many tenants in common, of the 
estate left by Adam, will lead, in the end, to something ex- 
traordinary. But, leaving the Rev. Mr. Worden and Mr. 
Jason Newcome to journey in their public conveyance, I 
must return to our own party. 

All of us men, with the exception of those who drove the 
two wagons of Herman Mordaunt, marched a-foot. Each 
of us carried a knapsack, in addition to his rifle and ammu- 
nition ; and, it will be imagined, that our day’s work was 
not a very long one. The first day, we halted at Madam 
Schuyler’s, by invitation, where we all dined; including the 
surveyor. Lord Howe was among the guests, that day ; 
and he appeared to admire the spirit of Anneke and Mary 
26 ' 


v 


302 


S AT ANSTOE. 


Wallace greatly, in attempting such an expedition, at such 
a time. 

“ You need have no fears, however, ladies, as we shall 
keep up strong detachments between you and the French,” 
he said, more gravely, after some pleasant trifling on the 
subject. 44 Last summer’s work, and the disgraceful man- 
ner in which poor Munro was abandoned to his fate, has 
rendered us all keenly alive to the importance of compelling 
the enemy to remain at the north end of Lake George ; too 
many battles having already been fought on this side it, for 
the credit of the British arms. We pledge ourselves to your 
safety.” 

Anneke thanked him for this pledge, and the conversation 
changed. There was a young man present, who bore the 
name of Schuyler, and who was nearly related to Madam, 
with whose air, manner and appearance I was much struck. 
His aunt called him 4 Philip and, being about my own age, 
during this visit I got into conversation with him. He told 
me he was attached to the commissariat under Gen. Brad- 
street, and that he should move on with the army, as soon 
as the preparations for its marching were completed. He 
then entered into a clear, simple explanation of the supposed 
' plan of the approaching campaign. 

44 We shall see you and your friends among us, then, I 
hope,” he added, as we were walking on the lawn together, 
previously to the summons to dinner ; 44 for, to own to you 
the truth, Mr. Littlepage, I do not half like the necessity of 
our having so many eastern troops among us, to clear this 
colony of its enemies. It is true, a nation must fight its 
foes wherever they may happen to be found ; but there is so 
little in common, between us and the Yankees, that I could 
wish we were strong enough to beat back the French 
alone.” 

44 We have the same sovereign and the same allegiance,” 
I answered ; 44 if you can call that something in common.” 

44 That is true ; yet, I think you must have enough Dutch 
blood about you to understand me. My duty calls "me much 
among the different regiments ; and, I will own, that I find 
more trouble with one New England regiment, than with a 
whole brigade of the other troops. They have generals, 


S AT ANSTOE. 


303 


and colonels, and majors, enough for the army of the Duke 
of Marlborough !” 

“ It is certain, there is no want of military rank among 
them — and they are particularly fond of referring to it.” 

“ Quite true,” answered young Schuyler, smiling. “ You 
will hear the word ‘ general’ or 4 colonel’ oftener used, in 
one of their cantonments, in a day, than you shall hear it 
at Head Quarters in a month. They have capital points 
about them, too; yet, somehow or other, we do not like 
each other.” » 

Twenty years later in life, I had reason to remember this 
remark, as well as to reflect on the character of the man 
who had uttered it. I, or my successors, will probably have 
occasion to advert to matters connected with this feeling, in 
the later passages of this record. 

I had also a little conversation with Lord Howe, who 
complimented me on what had passed on the river. He had 
evidently received an account of that affair from some one 
who was much my friend, and saw fit to allude to the sub- 
ject in a way that was very agreeable to myself. This 
short conversation was not worth repeating, but it opened 
the way to an acquaintance that subsequently was connected 
with some events of interest. 

About an hour after dinner, our party took its leave of 
Madam Schuyler, and moved on. The day’s march was 
intended to be short, though by this time the roads were set- 
tled, and tolerably good. Of roads, however, we were not 
long to enjoy the advantages, for they extended only some 
thirty miles to the north of Albany, in our direction. With 
the exception of the military route, which led direct to the 
head-waters of Lake Champlain, this was about the extent 
of all the avenues that penetrated the interior, in that quarter 
of the country. Our direction was to the northward and 
eastward, both Ravensnest and Mooseridge lying slightly in 
the direction of the Hampshire Grants. 

As soon as we reached the point on the great northern 
road, or that which led towards Skeenesborough, Herman 
Mordaunt was obliged to quit his wagons, and to put all the 
females on horseback. The most necessary of the stores 
were placed on pack-horses ; and, after a delay of half a 
day, time lost in making these arrangements, we proceeded. 


304 


S ATANSTOE. 


The wagons were to follow, but at a slow pace, the ladies 
being compelled to abandon them on account of the rugged- 
ness of the ways, which would have rendered their motion 
not easy to be borne. Our cavalcade and train of footmen 
made a respectable display along the uneven road, which 
soon became very little more than a line cut through the 
forest, with an occasional wheel-track, but without the least 
attempt to level the surface of the ground by any artificial 
means. This was the place where we were to overtake Mr. 
Worden and Jason, and where we did find their effects ; the 
owners themselves having gone on in advance, leaving word 
that we should fall in with them somewhere on the route. 

Guert and I marched in front, our youth and vigour ena- 
bling us to do this with great ease to ourselves. Knowing 
that the ladies were well cared for, on horseback, we pushed 
on, in order to make provision for their reception, at a house 
a few miles distant, where we were to pass the night. This 
building was of logs, of course, and stood quite alone in the 
wilderness, having, however, some twenty or thirty acres 
of cleared land around it ; and it would not do to pass it, at 
that time of the day. The distance from this solitary dwell- 
ing to the first habitation on Herman Mordaunt’s property, 
was eighteen miles ; and that was a length of road that would 
require the whole of a long May day to overcome, under 
our circumstances. 

Guert and myself might have been about a mile in ad- 
vance of the rest of the party, when we saw a sort of semi- 
clearing before us, that we mistook at first for our resting- 
place. A few acres had been chopped over, letting in the 
light of the day upon the gloom of the forest, but the second 
growth was already shooting up, covering the area with high 
bushes. As we drew nearer, we saw it was a small, aban- 
doned clearing. Entering it, voices were heard at no great 
distance, and we stopped ; for the human voice is not heard, 
in such a place, without causing the traveller to pause, and 
stand to his arms. This we did ; after which we listened 
with some curiosity and caution. 

“ High !” exclaimed some one, very distinctly, in Eng- 
lish. 

“ Jack !” said another voice, in a sort of answering second, 
lhat could not well be mistaken. 


SATANSTOE. 305 

“ There ’s three for low ; — is that good ?” put in the firs 
speaker. 

“ It will do, sir ; but here are a ten and an ace. Ten 
and three, and four and two make nineteen ; — I ’m game.” 

“ High, low, Jack and game !” whispered Guert ; “ here 
are fellows playing at cards, near us ; let us go on and beat 
up their quarters.” 

We did so ; and, pushing aside some bushes, broke, quite 
unexpectedly to all parties, on the Rev. Mr. Worden and 
Jason Newcome, playing the game of ‘All Fours on a stump ; 
or, if not literally in the classic position of using ‘ the slump,’ 
substituting the trunk of a fallen tree for their table. As 
we broke suddenly in upon the card-players, Jason gave 
unequivocal signs of a disposition to conceal his hand, by 
thrusting the cards he held into his bosom, while he rapidly 
put the remainder of the pack under his thigh, pressing it 
down in a way completely to conceal it. This sudden 
movement was merely the effect of a puritanical education, 
which, having taught him to consider that as a sin which 
was not necessarily a sin at all, exacted from him that hy- 
pocrisy which is the tribute that vice pays to virtue ! Very 
different was the conduct of the Rev. Mr. Worden. Taught 
to discriminate better, and unaccustomed to set up arbitrary 
rules of his own as the law of God, this loose observer of 
his professional obligations in other matters, made a very 
proper distinction in this. Instead of giving the least mani- 
festation of confusion or alarm, the log on which he was 
seated was not more unmoved than he remained, at our sud- 
den appearance at his side. 

“ I hope, Corny, my dear boy,” Mr. Worden cried, “that 
you did not forget to purchase a few packs of cards ; which 
I plainly see, will be a great resource for us, in this woody 
region. These cards of Jason’s are so thumbed and han- 
dled, that they are not fit to be touched by a gentleman, as 
I will show you. — Why, what has become of the pack, 
Master Newcome ? — It was on the log but a minute ago !” 

Jason actually blushed ! Yes, for a wonder, shame in- 
duced Jason Newcome to change colour ! The cards were 
reluctantly produced from beneath his leg, and there the 
schoolmaster sat, as it might be in presence of his school 
actually convicted of being engaged in the damning sin of 
26 * 


S AT ANSTOE. 


306 

handling certain spotted pieces of paper, invented for, and 
used in the combinations of a game played for amusement. 

“ Had it been push-pin, now,” Guert whispered, “ it would 
give Mr. Newcome no trouble at all ; but he does not admire 
the idea of being caught at ‘All Fours, on a stump.’ We 
must say a word to relieve the poor sinner’s distress. I have 
cards, Mr. Worden, and they shall be much at your service, 
as soon as we can come at our effects. There is one pack 
in my knapsack, but it is a little soiled by use, though some- 
what cleaner than that. If you wish it, I will hand it to 
you. I never travel without carrying one or two clean 
packs with me.” 

“ Not just now, sir, I thank you. I love a game of Whist, 
or Picquet, but cannot say I am an admirer of All Fours. 
As Mr. Newcome knows no other, we were merely killing 
half an hour, at that game ; but I have enough of it to last 
me for the summer. Iam glad that cards have not been 
forgotten, however ; for, I dare say, we can make up a very 
respectable party at Whist, when we all meet.” 

“ That we can, sir, and a party that shall have its good 
players. Miss Mary Wallace plays as good a hand at Whist, 
as a woman should, Mr. Worden ; and a very pretty accom- 
plishment it is, for a lady to possess; useful, sir, as well as 
entertaining; for anything is preferable to dummy. I do 
not think a woman should play quite as well -as a man, our 
sex having a natural claim to lead, in all such things ; but 
it is very convenient, sometimes, to find a lady who can 
hold her hand with coolness and skill.” 

“ I would not marry a woman who did not understand 
Picquet,” exclaimed the Rev. Mr. Worden ; “ to say nothing 
of Whist, and one or two other games. But, let us be 
moving, since the hour is getting late.” 

Move on we did, and in due time we all reached the place 
at which we were to halt for the night. This looked like 
plunging into the wilderness indeed ; for the house had but 
two rooms, one of which was appropriated to the use of the 
females, while most of us men took up our lodgings in the 
barn. Anneke and Mary Wallace, however, showed the 
most perfect good-humour ; and our dinner, or supper might 
better be the name, was composed of deliciously fat and 
tender broiled pigeons. It was the pigeon season, the woods 


S AT ANSTOE. 


307 

being full of the birds ; and we were told, we might expect 
to feast on the young to satiety. 

About noon the next day, we reached the first clearing 
on the estate of Ravensnest. The country through which 
we were travelling was rolling rather than bold ; but it pos- 
sessed a feature of grandeur in its boundless forests. Our 
route, that day, lay under lofty arches of young leaves, the 
buds just breaking into the first green of the foliage, tall, 
straight columns, sixty, eighty, and sometimes a hundred 
feet of the trunks of the trees, rising almost without a branch. 
The pines, in particular, were really majestic, most of them 
being a hundred and fifiy feet in height, and a few, as I 
should think, nearly if not quite two hundred. As every- 
thing grows towards the upper light, in the forest, this ought 
not to surprise those who are accustomed to see vegetation 
expand its powers in wide-spreading tops, and low, gnarled 
branches that almost touch the ground, as is the case in the 
open fields, and on the lawns of the older regions. As is 
usual in the American virgin forest, there was very little 
under-brush ; and we could see frequently a considerable 
distance through these long vistas of trees ; or, indeed, until 
the number of the stems intercepted the sight. 

The clearings of Ravensnest were neither very large nor 
very inviting. In that day, the settlement of new lands was 
a slow and painful operation, and was generally made at a 
great outlay to the proprietor. Various expedients were 
adopted to free the earth from its load of trees ;* for, at that 

* The late venerable Hendrick Frey was a man well known to all 
who dwelt in the valley of the Mohawk. He had been a friend, con- 
temporary, and it is believed an executor of the celebrated Sir Wil- 
liam Johnson, Bart. Thirty years since, he related to the writer the 
following anecdote. Young Johnson first appeared in the valley as 
the agent of a property belonging to his kinsman, Admiral Sir Peter 
Warren, K. B. ; who, having married in the colony, had acquired 
several estates in it. Among other tracts was one called Warrens- 
bush, on the Mohawk, on which young Johnson first resided. Find- 
ing it difficult to get rid of the trees around his dwelling, Johnson 
sent down to the admiral, at New York, to provide some purchases 
with which to haul the trees down to the earth, after grubbing and 
cutting the roots on one side. An acre was lowered in this manner, 
each tree necessarily lying at a larger angle to the earth than the 
next beneath it. An easterly wind came one night, and, to John- 
son’s surprise, he found half his trees erect again, on rising in the 


308 


S ATANSTOE. 


time, the commerce of the colonies did not reward the toil 
of the settler in the same liberal manner as has since oc- 
curred. Herman Mordaunt, as we moved along, related to 
me the cost and trouble he had been at already, in getting 
the ten or fifteen families who were on his property, in the 
first place, to the spot itself ; and, in the second place, to 
induce them to remain there. Not only was he obliged to 
grant leases for three lives, or, in some cases, for thirty or 
forty years, at rents that were merely nominal, but, as a 
rule, the first six or eight years the tenants were to pay no 
rent at all. On the contrary, he was obliged to extend to 
them many favours, in various ways, that cost no inconside- 
rable sum in the course of the year. Among other things, 
his agent kept a small shop, that contained the most ordi- 
nary supplies used by families of the class of the settler, and 
these he sold at little more than cost, for their accommoda- 
tion, receiving his pay in such articles as they could raise 
from their half-tilled fields, or their sugar-bushes, and turn- 
ing those again into money, only after they were transported 
to Albany, at the end of a considerable period. In a word, 
the commencement of such a settlement was an arduous 
undertaking, and the experiment was not very likely to suc- 
ceed, unless the landlord had both capital and patience. 

The political economist can have no difficulty in discover- 
ing the causes of the circumstances just mentioned. They 
were to be found in the fact that people were scarce, while 
land was superabundant. In such a condition of society, the 
tenant had the choice of his farm, instead of the landlord’s 
having a selection of his tenants, and the latter were to be 
bought only on such conditions as suited themselves. 

“ You see,” continued Herman Mordaunt, as we walked 
together, conversing on this subject, “ that my twenty thou- 
sand acres are not likely to be of much use to myself, even 
should they prove to be of any to my daughter. A century 
hence, indeed, my descendants may benefit from all this 
outlay of money and trouble ; but it is not probable that 
either I or Anneke will ever see the principal and interest 
of the sums that will be expended in the way of roads, 


morning ! The mode of clearing lands by * purchases’ was then 
abandoned. — Editor. 


S ATANSTOE . 


309 


bridges, mins, and other things of that sort. Years must go 
by, before the light rents which will only begin to be paid a 
year or two hence, and then only by a very few tenants, 
can amount to a sufficient sum to meet the expenses of keep- 
ing up the settlement, to say nothing of the quit-rents to be 
paid to the crown.” 

“ This is not very encouraging to a new beginner in the 
occupation of a landlord,” I answered ; “ and, when I look 
into the facts, I confess, I am surprised that so many gentle- 
men in the colony are willing to invest the sums they annu- 
ally do in wild lands.” 

iC Every man who i? at his ease in his moneyed affairs, 
Corny, feels a disposition to make some provision for his 
posterity. This estate, if kept together, and in single hands, 
may make some descendant of mine a man of fortune. Half 
a century will produce a great change in this colony ; and, 
at the end of that period, a child of Anneke’s may be thank- 
ful that his mother had a father who was willing to throw 
away a few thousands of his own, the surplus of a fortune 
that was sufficient for his wants without them, in order that 
his grandson may see them converted into tens, or possibly 
into hundreds of thousands.” 

“ Posterity will, at least, owe us a debt of gratitude, Mr. 
Mordaunt ; for I now see that Mooseridge is not likely to 
make either Dirck or myself very affluent patroons.” 

“ On that you may rely. Satanstoe will produce you 
more than the large tracts you possess in this quarter.” 

“ Do you no longer fear, sir, that the war, and apprehen- 
sion of Indian ravages, may drive your people off?” 

“ Not much at present, though the danger was great at 
one time. The war may do me good, as well as harm. 
The armies consume everything they can get — soldiers 
resembling locusts, in this respect. My tenants have had 
the commissaries among them ; and, I am told, every blade 
of grass they can spare — all their surplus grain, potatoes, 
butter, cheese, and, in a word, everything that can be eaten, 
and with which they are willing to part, has been contracted 
for at the top of the market. The King pays in gold, and 
the sight of the precious metals will keep even a Yankee 
from moving.” 

About the time this was said, we came in sight of the spot 


310 


S AT ANSTOE. 


Herman Mordaunc had christened Raven&nest ; a name thal 
had since been applied to the whole property. It was a log 
building, that stood on the verge of a low cliff of rocks, at a 
point where a bird of that appellation had originally a nest 
on the uppermost branches of a dead hemlock. The build- 
ing had been placed, and erected, with a view to defence, 
having served for some time as a sort of rallying point to 
the families of the tenantry, in the event of an Indian alarm. 
At the commencement of the present war, taking into view 
the exposed position of his possessions on that frontier,— 
frontier as to settlement, if not as to territorial limits, — Her- 
man Mordaunt had caused some attention to be paid to his 
fortifications ; which, though they might not have satisfied 
Mons. Vauban, were not altogether without merit, considered 
in reference to their use in case of a surprise. 

The house formed three sides of a parallelogram, the 
open portion of the court in the centre, facing the cliff. A 
strong picket served to make a defence against bullets on that 
side; while the dead walls of solid logs were quite impreg- 
nable against any assault known in forest warfare, but that 
of fire. All the windows opened on the court ; while the 
single outer door was picketed, and otherwise protected by 
coverings of plank. I was glad to see by the extent of this 
rude structure, which was a hundred feet long by fifty in 
depth, that Anneke and Mary Wallace would not be likely 
to be straitened for room. Such proved to be the fact ; 
Herman Mordaunt’s agent having prepared four or five 
apartments for the family, that rendered them as comfortable 
as people could well expect to be in such a situation. Every- 
thing was plain, and many things were rude ; but shelter^ 
warmth and security had not been neglected. 


CHAPTER XXI. 


“And long 1 shall timorous fancy see 
The painted chief and pointed spear ; 

And Reason’s self shall bow the knee 
To shadows and delusions here.” 

Freneau. 

It is not necessary to dwell on the manner in which Her- 
man Mordaunt and his companions became established at 
Ravensnest. Two or three days sufficed to render them as 
comfortable as circumstances would permit; then Dirck 
and I bethought us of proceeding in quest of the lands of 
Mooseridge. Mr. Worden and Jason both declined going 
any further; the mill-seat, of which the last was in quest, 
being, as I now learned, on the estate of Herman Mordaunt, 
and having been for some time the subject of a negotiation 
between the pedagogue and its owner. As for the divine, 
he declared that he saw a suitable ‘ field’ for his missionary 
labour where he was ; while, it was easy to see, that he 
questioned if there were fields of any sort, where we were 
going. 

Our party, on quitting Ravensnest, consisted of Dirck and 
myself, Guert, Mr. Traverse, the surveyor, three chain- 
bearers, Jaap or Yaap, Guert’s man, Pete, and one woods- 
man or hunter. This would have given us ten vigorous 
and well-armed men, for our whole force. It was thought 
best, however, to add two Indians to our number, in the 
double character of hunters and runners, or messengers. 
One of these red-skins was called Jumper, in the language 
of the settlement where we found them ; and the other 
Trackless ; the latter sobriquet having been given him on 
account of a faculty he possessed of leaving little or no trail 
in his journeys and marches. This Indian was about six- 
and-twenty years of age, and was called a Mohawk, living 
with the people of that tribe ; though, I subsequently ascer- 
tained that he was, in fact, an Onondago* by birth. His 

* Pronounced On-on-daw-ger, the latter syllable hard ; or, like ga, 
as it is sometimes spelled. This is the name of one of the midland 


312 


SATANSTOE. 


* 


true name was Susquesus, or Crooked Turns; an appella- 
tion that might or might not speak well of his character, as 
the turns’ were regarded in a moral, or in a physical sense. 

“ Take that man, Mr. Littlepage, by all means,” said 
Herman Mordaunt’s agent, when the matter was under dis- 
cussion. “ You will find him as useful, in the woods, as 
your pocket-compass, besides being a reasonably good 
hunter. He left here, as a runner, during the heaviest of 
the snows, last winter, and a trial was made to find his trail, 
within half an hour after he had quitted the clearing, but 
without success. He had not gone a mile in the woods, 
before all traces of him were lost, as completely as if he had 
made the journey in the air.” 

As Susquesus had a reputation for sobriety, as was apt 
to be the case with the Onondagoes, the man was engaged, 
though one Indian would have been sufficient for our pur- 
pose. But Jumper had been previously hired ; and it would 
have been dangerous, under our circumstances, to offend a 
-ed-man, by putting him aside for another, even after com- 
pensating him fully for the disappointment. By Mr. Tra- 
verse’s advice, therefore, we took both. The Indian or 
Mohawk name of Jumper, was Quissquiss, a term that, I 
fancy, signified nothing very honourable or illustrious. 

The girls betrayed deep interest in us, on our taking leave ; 
more, I thought, than either had ever before manifested. 
Guert had told me, privately, of an intention, on his part, to 
make another offer to Mary Wallace; and I saw the traces 
of it in the tearful eyes and flushed cheeks of his mistress. 
But, at such a moment, one does not stop to think much of 
such things ; there being tears in Anneke’s eyes, as well as 
in those ot her friend. We had a thousand good wishes to 
exchange ; and we promised to keep open the communica- 
tion between the two parties, by means of our runners 
semi-weeklv. The distance, which would vary from fifteen 
to thirty miles, would readily admit of this, since either of 
the Indians would pass over it, with the greatest ease to 
himself, in a day, at that season of the year. 

counties of New York. The tribe from which it is derived, in these 
later times, has ever borne a better name for morals, than its neigh, 
hours, the Oneidas, the Mohawks, &c., &c. The Onondagoes be. 
longed to the Six Nations. — Editor. 


SATANSTOE. 313 

After all, the separation was to be short, for we had pro. 
mised to come over and dine with Herman Mordaunt on his 
fiftieth birth-day, which would occur within three weeks. 
This arrangement made the parting tolerable to us young 
men, and our constitutional gaiety did the rest. Half an 
hour after the last breakfast at Ravensnest saw us all on our 
road, cheerful, if not absolutely happy. Herman Mordaunt 
accompanied us three miles; which led him to the end of 
his own settlements, and to the ed^e of the virgin forest. 
I here he took his leave, and we pursued our way with the 
utmost diligence, for hours, with the compass for our guide, 
until we reached the banks of a small river that was sup- 
posed to lie some three or four miles from the southern 
boundaries of the patent w T e sought. I say, ‘ supposed to 
lie,’ for there existed then, and, I believe, there still exists, 
much uncertainty concerning the landmarks of different 
estates in the woods. On the banks of this stream, which 
was deep but not broad, the surveyor called a halt, and we 
made our dispositions for dinner. Men who had walked as 
far and as fast as we had done, made but little ceremony ; 
and for twenty minutes every one was busy in appeasing 
his hunger. This was no sooner accomplished, however, 
than Mr. Traverse summoned the Indians to the side of the 
fallen tree on which we had taken our seats, when the first 
occasion occurred for putting the comparative intelligence 
of the two runners to the proof. At the same time the prin- 
cipal chain-bearer, a man whose life had been passed in his 
present occupation, was brought into the consultation, as 
follows. 

“ We are now on the banks of this stream, and about this 
bend in it,” commenced the surveyor, pointing to the precise 
curvature of the river on a map he had spread before him, 
at which he supposed we were actually situated ; “ and the 
next thing is to find that ridge on which the moose was 
killed, and across which the line of the patent we seek is 
known to run. This abstract of the title tells us to look for 
a corner somewhere off here, about a mile or a mile and a 
half from this bend in the river — a black oak, with its top 
broken off by the wind, and standing in the centre of a tri- 
angle made by three chestnuts. I think you told me, David 
that you had never borne a chain on any of these ridges ?” 

37 


314 


SAT ANSTOE. 


“ No, sir, never answered David, the old chain-bearer 
already mentioned ; “ my business never having brought me 
out so far east. — A black oak, with corner blazes on it, and 
its top broken down by the wind, and standing atween three 
chestnuts, howsomedever, can be nothing so very hard to 
find, for a person that ’s the least acquainted. These Injins 
will be the likeliest bodies to know that tree, if they’ve any 
nat’ral knowledge of the country.” 

Know a tree ! There we were, and had been for many 
hours, in the bosom of the forest, with trees in thousands 
ranged around us ; trees had risen on our march, as horizon 
extends beyond horizon on the ocean, and this chain-bearer 
fancied it might be in the power of one who often passed 
through these dark and untenanted mazes, to recognise any 
single member of those countless oaks, and beeches, and 
pines ! Nevertheless, Mr. Traverse did not seem to regard 
David’s suggestion as so very extravagant, for he turned 
towards the Indians and addressed himself to them. 

“ How’s this?” he asked ; “Jumper, do you know any- 
thing of the sort of tree I have described 7” 

“ No,” was the short, sententious answer. 

“ Then, I fear, there is little hope that Trackless is any 
wiser, as you are Mohawk born, and he, they tell me, is at 
bottom an Onondago. What say you, Trackless! can you 
help us to find the tree ?” 

My eyes were fastened on Susquesus, as soon as the In- 
dians were mentioned. There he stood, straight as the 
trunk of a pine, light and agile in person, with nothing but 
his breech-cloth, moccasins, and a blue calico shirt belted 
to his loins with a scarlet band, through which was thrust 
the handle of his tomahawk, and to which were attached his 
shot-pouch and horn, while his rifle rested against his body, 
butt downward. Trackless was a singularly handsome 
Indian, the unpleasant peculiarities of his people being but 
faintly portrayed in his face and form ; while their nobler 
and finer qualities came out in strong relief. His nose was 
almost aquiline ; his eye, dark as night, was restless and 
piercing; his limbs Apollo-like; and his front and bearing 
had all the fearless dignity of a warrior, blended with the 
grace of nature. The only obvious defects were in his walk, 
which was Indian, or in-toed and bending at the knee ; but, 


SATANSTOE. 


315 


to counterbalance these, his movements were light, springy 
and swift. I fancied him, in figure, the very beau-ideal of 
a runner. 

During the time the surveyor was speaking, the eye of 
Susquesus was seemingly fastened on vacancy, and I would 
have defied the nicest observer to detect any consciousness of 
what was in hand, in the countenance of this forest stoic. 
It was not his business to speak, while an older runner and 
an older warrior was present — for Jumper was both — and 
he waited for others, who might know more, to reveal their 
knowledge ere he produced his own. Thus directly ad- 
dressed, however, all reserve vanished, and he advanced two 
or three steps, cast a curious glance at the map, even put a 
finger on the river, the devious course of which it followed 
across the map, much as a child would trace any similar 
object that attracted his attention. Susquesus knew but 
little of maps, it was clear enough ; but the result showed 
that he knew a great deal about the woods, his native field 
of action. 

“ Well, what do you make of my map, Trackless,” re- 
peated the surveyor. “ Is it not drawn to suit your fancy !” 

“ Good” — returned the Onondago, with emphasis. “Now 
show Susquesus your oak tree.” 

“ Here it is, Trackless. You see it is a tree drawn in 
ink, with a broken top, and here are the three chestnuts, in 
a sort of triangle, around it.” 

The Indian examined the tree with some interest, and a 
slight smile illumined his handsome, though dark counte- 
nance. He was evidently pleased at this proof of accuracy 
in the colony surveyors, and, no doubt, thought the better 
of them for the fidelity of their work. 

“ Good,” he repeated, in his low, guttural, almost femi- 
nine voice, so soft and mild in its tone. “ Very good. The 
pale-faces know everything ! Now, let my brother find the 
tree.” 

“ That is easier said than done, Susquesus,” answered 
Traverse, laughing. “ It is one thing to sketch a tree on a 
map, and another to go to its root, as it stands in the forest, 
surrounded by thousands of other trees.” 

“ Pale-face must first see him, or how paint him ? Where 
painter!” 


316 


SA TANS TOE. 


“Ay, the surveyor saw the tree once, and marked it once, 
but that is not finding it again. Can you tell me where the 
oak stands'? Mr. Littlepage will give the man who finds 
that corner a French crown. Put me anywhere on the line 
of the old survey, and I will ask favours of no one.” 

“ Painted tree there” said Susquesus, pointing a little 
scornfully at the map, as it seemed to me. “ Pale-face can’t 
find him in wood. Live tree out younder; Injin know.” 

Trackless pointed with great dignity towards the north- 
east, standing motionless as a statue the while, as if inviting 
the closest possible scrutiny into the correctness of his asser- 
tion. 

“Can you lead us to the tree?” demanded Traverse, 
eagerly. “ Do it, and the money is yours.” 

Susquesus made a significant gesture of assent ; then he 
set about collecting the scanty remains of his dinner, a pre- 
caution in which we imitated him, as a supper would be 
equally agreeable as the meal just taken, a few hours later. 
When everything was put away, and the packs were on our 
shoulders — not on those of the Indians, for they seldom con- 
descended to carry burthens, which was an occupation for 
women — Trackless led the way, in the direction he had 
already pointed out. 

Well did the Onondago deserve his name, as it seemed to 
me, while he threaded his way through that gloomy forest, 
without path, mark or sign of any sort, that was intelligible 
to others. His pace was between a walk and a gentle trot, 
and it required all our muscles to keep near him. He 
looked to neither the right nor the left, but appeared to pur- 
sue his course guided by an instinct, or as the keen-scented 
hound follows the viewless traces of his game. This lasted 
for ten minutes, when Traverse called another halt, and we 
clustered together in council. 

“ How much further do you think it may be to the tree, 
Onondago?” demanded the surveyor, as soon as the whole 
party was collected in a circle. “I have a reason for ask- 
ing. 

“ So many minutes,” answered the Indian, holding up 
five fingers, or the four fingers and thumb of his right hand. 
‘ Oak with broken top, and pale-face marks, there.” 

The precision and confidence with which the Trackless 


SATANSTOE. 


317 


pointed, not a little surprised me, for I could not imagine 
how any human being could pretend to be minutely certain 
of such a fact, under the circumstances in which we were 
placed. So it was, however ; and so it proved in the end. 
In the mean time, Traverse proceeded to carry out his own 
plans. 

“As we are so near to the tree,” he said, for the surveyor 
had no doubt of the red-man’s accuracy, “ we must also be 
near the line. The last runs north and south, on this part 
of the patent, and we shall shortly cross it. Spread your- 
selves, therefore, chain-bearers, and look for blazed trees ; 
for, put me anywhere on the boundaries, and I ’ll answer 
for finding any oak, beech, or maple, that is mentioned in 
the corners.” 

As soon as this order was received, all the surveyor’s 
men obeyed, opening the order of their march, and spread- 
ing themselves in a way to extend their means of observing 
materially. When all was ready, a sign was made to the 
Indian to proceed. Susquesus obeyed, and we were all 
soon in quick motion again. 

Guert’s activity enabled him to keep nearest to the Onon- 
dago, and a shout from his clear, full throat, first announced 
the complete success of the search. In a moment the rest 
of us pressed forward, and were soon at the end of our jour- 
ney. There was Susquesus, quietly leaning against the 
trunk of the broken oak, without the smallest expression of 
triumph in either his manner or his countenance. That 
which he had done, he had done naturally, and without any 
apparent effort or hesitation. To him the forest had its 
signs, and metes, and marks — as the inhabitant of the vast 
capital has his means of threading its mazes with the readi- 
ness of familiarity and habit. As for Traverse, he first 
examined the top of the tree, where he found the indicated 
fracture; then he looked round for the three chestnuts, each 
of which was in its place ; after which he drew near to look 
into the more particular signs of his craft. There they were, 
three of the inner sides of the oak being blazed, the proof it 
was a corner ; while that which had no scar on its surface 
looked outward, or from the Patent of Mooseridge. Just 
as all these agreeable facts were ascertained, shouts from 
the chain-bearers south of us, announced that they had dis- 
27 * 


318 


SATAN STOE . 


covered the line — men of their stamp being quite as quick- 
sighted, in ascertaining their own peculiar traces, as the 
native of the forest is in finding his way to any object in it 
which he has once seen, and may desire to revisit. By 
following the line, these men soon joined us, when they 
gave us the additional information that they had also actu- 
ally found the skeleton of the moose that had given its name 
to the estate. 

Thus far, all was well, our success much exceeding our 
hopes. The hunters were sent to look for a spring ; and, 
one being found at no great distance, we all repaired to the 
spot, and hutted for the night. Nothing could be more 
simple than our encampment ; which consisted of coverings 
made of the branches of trees, with leaves and skins for our 
beds. Next day, however, Traverse finding the position 
favourable for his work, he determined to select the spot as 
head-quarters ; and we all set about the erection of a log- 
house, in which we might seek a shelter in the event of a 
storm, and where we might deposit our implements, spare 
ammunition, and such stores as we had brought with us on 
our backs. As everybody worked with good-will at the 
erection of this rude building, and the labourers were very 
expert with the axe, we had it nearly complete by the set- 
ting of the next day’s sun. Traverse chose the place be- 
cause the water was abundant, and good, and because a 
small knoll was near the spring, that was covered with 
young pines that were about fourteen or fifteen inches in 
diameter, while they grew to the height of near a hundred 
feet, with few branches, and straight as the Onondago. 
These trees were felled, cut into lengths of twenty and thirty 
feet, notched at the ends, and rolled alternately on each 
other, so as to enclose an area that was one-third longer 
than it was wide. The notches were deep, and brought the 
logs within two or three inches of each other; and the inter- 
stices were filled with pieces of riven chestnut, a wood that 
splits easily and in straight lines; which pieces were driven 
hard into their beds, so as to exclude the winds and the 
rains. As the weather was warm, and the building some- 
what airy at the best, we cut no windows, though we had 
a narrow door in the centre of one of the longer sides. For 
a roof we used the bark of the hemlock, which, at that 


SAT ANSTOE. 


319 


season, came off in large pieces, and which was laid o« 
sticks, raised to the desired elevation by means of a ridge- 
pole. 

All this was making no more than one of the common 
log-houses of the new settlements, though in a more hurried 
and a less artificial manner than was usual. We had no 
chimney, for our cooking could be done in the open air ; 
and less attention was paid to the general finish of the work, 
than might have been the case had we expected to pass the 
winter there. The floor was somewhat rude, but it had the 
effect of raising us from the ground, and giving us perfectly 
dry lodgings ; an advantage not always obtained in the 
woods. It was composed of logs roughly squared on three 
sides, and placed on sleepers. To my surprise, Traverse 
directed a door to be made of riven logs, that were pinned 
together with cross-pieces, and which was hung on the 
usual wooden hinges. When I spoke of this as unnecessary 
labour, occupying two men an entire day to complete, he 
reminded me that we were much in advance from the settle- 
ments ; that an active war was being waged around us, and 
that the agents of the French had been very busy among 
our own tribes, while those in Canada often pushed their 
war-parties far within our borders. He had always found 
a great satisfaction, as well as security, in having a sort of 
citadel to retreat to, when on these exposed surveys; and 
he never neglected the necessary precaution, when he fan- 
cied himself in the least danger. 

We were quite a week in completing our house ; though, 
after the first day, neither the surveyor nor his chain-bear- 
ers troubled themselves with the labour, any further than 
to make an occasional suggestion. Traverse and his men 
went to work in their own pursuit, running lines to divide 
the patent into its great lots, each of which was made to 
contain a thousand acres. It should be mentioned that all 
the surveys, in that day, were made on the most liberal 
scale, our forty thousand acres turning out, in the end, to 
amount to quite three thousand more. So it was with the 
subdivisions of the Patent, each of which was found to be 
of more than the nominal dimensions. Blazed trees, and 
records cut into the bark, served to indicate the lines, while 
a map went on pari passu with the labour, the field-book 


320 


SATANSTOE. 


containing a description of eacli lot, in order that the pro- 
prietor of the estate might have some notions of the nature 
of its soil and surface, as well as of the quality and sizes of 
the trees it bore. 

The original surveyors, those on whose labours the pa- 
tent of the King was granted, had a comparatively trifling 
duty to perform. So long as they gave a reasonably accu- 
rate outline of an area that would contain forty thousand 
acres of land, more or less, and did not trespass on any prior 
grant, no material harm could be done, there being no 
scarcity of surface in the colony ; but, Mr. Traverse had to 
descend to a little more particularity. It is true, he ran out 
his hundreds of acres daily, duly marking his corners and 
blazing his line trees, but something very like a summer’s 
work lay before him. This he understood, and his proceed- 
ings were as methodical and deliberate as the nature of his 
situation required. 

In a very few days, things had gotten fairly in train, and 
everybody was employed in some manner that was found to 
be useful. The surveying party was making a very satis- 
factory progress, running out their great lots between sun 
and sun, while Dirck and myself made the notes concerning 
their quality, under the dictation of Mr. Traverse. Guert 
did little besides shoot and fish, keeping our larder well sup- 
plied with trout, pigeons, squirrels, and such other game as 
the season would allow, occasionally knocking over some- 
thing in the shape of poor venison. The hunters brought 
us their share of eatables also ; and we did well enough, in 
this particular, more especially as trout proved to be very 
abundant. Yaap, or Jaap, as I shall call him in future, and 
Pete, performed domestic duty, acting as scullions and cooks, 
though the first was much better fitted to perform the ser- 
vice of a forester. The two Indians did little else, for the 
first fortnight, but come and go between Ravensnest and 
Mooseridge, carrying missives and acting as guides to the 
hunters, who went through once or twice within that period, 
to bring us out supplies of flour, groceries, and other similar 
necessaries ; no inducement being able to prevail on the 
Indians to carry anything that approached a burthen, either 
in weight or appearance. 

The surveying party did not always return to the hut at 


SATANSTOE. 


321 


night, but it ‘ ’camped out,’ as they called it, whenever the 
work led them to a distance on the other side of the tract. 
Mr. Traverse had chosen his position for head-quarters 
more in reference to its proximity to the settlement at Ravens- 
nest, than in reference to its position on the Patent. It was 
sufficiently central to the latter, as regarded a north and 
south line, but was altogether on the western side of the 
property. As his surveys extended east, therefore, he was 
often carried too far from the building to return to it each 
night, though his absences never extended beyond the even- 
ing of the third day. In consequence of this arrangement, 
his people were enabled to carry the food they required 
without inconvenience, for the periods they were away, 
coming back for fresh supplies as the lines brought them 
west again. Sundays were strictly observed by us all, as 
days of rest; a respect to the day that is not always ob- 
served in the forest ; he who is in the solitude of the woods, 
like him who roams athwart the wastes of the ocean, often 
forgetting that the spirit of the Creator is abroad equally on 
the ocean and on the land, ready to receive that homage of 
his creatures, which is a tribute due to beneficence without 
bounds, a holiness that is spotless, and a truth that is inhe- 
rent. 

As Jumper, or the Trackless, returned from his con. 
stantly recurring visits to our neighbours, we young men 
waited with impatience for the letter that the messenger was 
certain to bear. This letter was sometimes written by Her- 1 
man Mordaunt himself, but oftener by Anneke, or Mary 
Wallace. It was addressed to no one by name, but uni- 
formly bore the superscription of ‘ To the Hermits of Moose- 
ridge ;’ nor was there anything in the language to betray 
any particular attention to either of the party. We might 
have liked it better, perhaps, could we have received epistles 
that were a little more pointed in this particular ; but those 
we actually got were much too precious to leave any serious 
grounds of complaint. One from Herman Mordaunt reached 
us on the evening of the second Saturday, when our whole 
party was at home, and assembled at supper. It was brought 
in by the Trackless, and, among other matters, contained 
this paragraph : 

“ We learn that things hourly assume a more serious 


322 


SAT ANSTOE. 


aspect with the armies. Our troops are pushing north, in 
large bodies, and the French are said to be reinforcing. 
Living as we do, out of the direct line of march, and fully 
thirty miles in the rear of the old battle-grounds, I should 
feel no apprehension, were it not for a report I hear, that 
the woods are full of Indians. I very well know that such 
a report invariably accompanies the near approach of hos- 
tilities in the frontier settlements, and is to be received with 
many grains of allowance ; but it seems so probable the 
French should push their savages on this flank of our army, 
to annoy it on the advance, that, I confess, the rumour has 
some influence on my feelings. We have been fortifying 
still more; and I would advise you not to neglect such a 
precaution altogether. The Canadian Indians are said to be 
more subtle than our own ; nor is government altogether 
without the apprehension that our own have been tampered 
with. It Was said at Albany, that much French silver had 
been seen in the hands of the people of the Six Nations ; and 
that even French blankets, knives, and tomahawks, were 
more plentiful among them than might be accounted for by 
the ordinary plunder of their warfare. One of your run- 
ners, the man who is called the Trackless, is said to live 
out of his own tribe ; and such Indians are always to be 
suspected. Their absence is sometimes owing to reasons 
that are creditable ; but far oftener to those that are not. 
It may be well to have an eye on the conduct of this man. 
After all, we are in the hands of a beneficent and gracious 
God, and we know how often his mercy has saved us, on 
occasions more trying than this !” 

This letter was read several times, among ourselves, in- 
cluding Mr. Traverse. As the oi polloi of our party were 
eating out of ear-shot, and the Indians had left us, it natu- 
rally induced a conversation that turned on the risks we ran, 
and on the probability of Susquesus’s being false. 

“As for the rumour that the woods are full of Indians,” 
the surveyor quietly observed, “ it is very much as Herman 
Mordaunt says — there is never a blanket seen, but fame 
magnifies it into a whole bale. There is danger to be ap- 
prehended from savages, I will allow, but not one-half that 
the settlers ordinarily imagine. As for the French, they 
are likely to need all their savages at Ty ; for, they tell me, 


SATANSTOE. 


323 


Gen. Abercrombie will go against them with three men to 
their one.” 

“ With that superiority, at least,” 1 answered ; “ but, 
after all, would not a sagacious officer be likely to annoy 
his flank, in the manner here mentioned t” 

“ We are every mile of forty to the eastward of the line 
of march ; and why should parties keep so distant from their 
enemies ?” 

“ Even such a supposition would place our foes between 
us and our friends ; no very comfortable consideration, of 
itself. But, what think you of this hint concerning the 
Onondago ?” 

“ There may be truth in tkat — -more than in the report 
that the woods are full of savages. It is usually a bad sign 
when an Indian quits his tribe; and this runner of ours is 
certainly an Onondago ; tkat I know, for the fellow has 
twice refused rum. Bread he will take, as often as offered ; 
but rum has not wet his lips, since I have seen him, offered 
in fair weather or foul.” 

“ T’at is a bad sign” — put in Guert, a little dogmatically 
for him. “ T’e man t’at refuses his glass, in good company, 
has commonly something wrong in his morals. I always 
keep clear of such chaps.” 

Poor Guert ! — How true that was, and what an influence 
the opinion had on his character and habits. As for the 
Indian, I could not judge him so harshly. There was some- 
thing in his countenance that disposed me to put confidence 
in him, at the very moment his cold, abstracted manners — 
cold and abstracted even for a red-skin in pale-face com- 
pany — created doubts and distrust. 

“ Certainly, nothing is easier than for a man in his situa- 
tion to sell us,” I answered, after a short pause, “ if he be 
so disposed. But, what could the French gain by cutting 
off a party as peaceably employed as this ? It can be of no 
moment to them, whether Mooseridge be surveyed into lots 
this year, or the next.” 

“Quite true; and I am of opinion that Mons. Montcalm 
is very indifferent whether it be ever surveyed at all,” re- 
turned Traverse, who was an intelligent and tolerably edu- 
cated man. “ You forget, however, Mr. Littlepage, that 
both parties ifler such things as premiums on scalps. 


324 


SATANSTOE. 


A Huron may not care about our lines, corners, and marked 
trees ; but he does care, a great deal, whether he is to go 
home with an empty string, or with half-a-dozen human 
scalps at his girdle.” 

I observed that Dirck thrust his fingers through his bushy 
hair, and that his usually placid countenance assumed an 
indignant and semi-ferocious appearance. A little amused 
at this, I walked towards the log on which Susquesus was 
seated, having ended his meal, in silent thought. 

“ What news do you bring us from the red-coats, Track- 
less ?” I asked, with as much of an air of indifference as I 
could assume. “Are they out in sufficient numbers to eat 
the French ?” 

“ Look at leaves ; count ’em answered the Indian. 

“ Yes, I know they are in force ; but, what are the red- 
skins about? Is the hatchet buried, among the Six Na- 
tions, that you are satisfied with being a runner, when 
scalps may be had near Ticonderoga ?” 

“ Susquesus Onondago ” — the red-man replied, laying a 
strong emphasis on the name of his tribe. “ No Mohawk 
blood run in him. His people no dig up hatchet, this sum- 
mer.” 

“ Why not, Trackless? You are allies of the Yengeese, 
and ought to give us your aid, when it is wanted.” 

“Count leaves — count Yengeese. Too much for one 
armv. No want Onondago.” 

“ That may be true, possibly, for we are certainly very 
strong. But, how is it with the woods — are they altogether 
clear of red-skins, in times as troublesome as these?” 

Susquesus looked grave, but he made no answer. Still, 
he did not endeavour to avoid the keen look I fastened on 
his face, but sat compose/!, rigid, and gazing before him. 
Knowing the uselessness of attempting to get anything out 
of an Indian, when he was indisposed to be communicative, 
I thought it wisest to change the discourse. This I did by 
making a few general inquiries as to the state of the streams, 
all of which were answered, when I walked away. 


SAT A NS TOE. 


325 


CHAPTER XXII. 

“Fear not, till Birnam Wood 
Shall come to Dunsinane.” 

Macbeth. 

I cannot say I was quite satisfied with the manner of 
Susquesus ; nor, on the other hand, was I absolutely un- 
easy. All might be well ; and, if it were not, the power of 
this man to injure us could not be very great. A new oc- 
currence, however, raised very unpleasant doubts of his 
honesty. Jumper being out on a hunt, the Onondago was 
sent across to Ravensnest the next trip, out of his turn ; but, 
instead of returning, as had been the practice of both, the 
next day, we saw no more of him for near a fortnight. As 
we talked over this sudden and unexpected disappearance, 
we came to the conclusion, that, perceiving he was dis- 
trusted, the fellow had deserted, and would be seen no more. 
During his absence, wq paid a visit to Ravensnest ourselves, 
spending two or three happy days with the girls, whom we 
found delighted with the wildness of their abode, and as 
happy as innocence, health, and ceaseless interest in the 
forest and its habits, could make them. Herman Mordaunt, 
having fortified his house sufficiently, as he fancied, to re- 
move all danger of an assault, returned with us to Moose- 
ridge, and passed two or three days in walking over and 
examining the quality of the land, together with the advan- 
tages offered by the water-courses. As for Mr. Worden 
and Jason, the former had gone to join the army, craving 
the flesh-pots of a regimental mess, in preference to the 
simple fare of the woods; while Jason had driven a hard 
bargain with Herman Mordaunt for the possession of the 
mill-seat; which had been the subject of frequent discus- 
sions between the parties, and about which the pedagogue 
had deemed it prudent to draw on the wisdom of Mother 
Doortje. As the reader may have some curiosity to Know 
how such things were conducted in the colony, in the year 
1758, I will recapitulate the terms of the bargain that was 
finally agreed on, signed and sealed. 

28 


326 


SATAN STOE. 


Herman Mordaunt expected no emolument to himself, 
from Ravensnest, but looked forward solely to a provision 
for posterity. In consequence of these views, he refused to 
sell, but gave leases on such conditions as would induce 
tenants to come into his terms, in a country in which land 
was far plentier than men. For some reason, that never 
was very clear to me, he was particularly anxious to secure 
Jason Newcome, and no tolerable terms seemed extravagant 
to effect his purpose. It is not surprising, therefore, that 
our miller in perspective got much the best of the bargain, 
as its conditions will show. 

The lease was for three lives, and twenty-one years after- 
wards. This would have been thought equal to a lease for 
forty-two years, in that day, in Europe; but experience is 
showing that it is, in truth, for a much longer period, in 
America.* The first ten years, no rent at all was to be 
paid. For the next ten, the land, five hundred acres, was 
to pay sixpence currency an acre, the tenant having the 
right to cut timber at pleasure. This was a great conces- 
sion, as the mill-lot contained much pine. For the remain- 
der of the lease, be it longer or shorter, a shilling an 
acre, or about sixpence sterling, was to be paid for the land, 
and forty pounds currency, or one hundred dollars a year, 
for the mill-seat. The mills to be taken by the landlord, at 
an appraisal ‘ made by men’, at the expiration of the lease ; 
the tenant to pay the taxes. The tenant had the privilege 
of using all the materials for his dams, buildings, &c., he 
could find on the land. 

The policy of the owners of Mooseridge was different. 
We intended to sell at low prices, at first, reserving for 
leases hereafter, such farms as could not be immediately 
disposed of, or for which the purchaser failed to pay. In 
this manner it was thought we should sooner get returns for 
our outlays, and sooner ‘ build up a settlement,’ as the 
phrase goes. In America, the reader should know, every- 
thing is ‘ built.’ The priest ‘ builds up’ a flock ; the specu- 
lator, a fortune ; the lawyer, a reputation ; and the landlord, 
a settlement; sometimes, with sufficient accuracy in lan- 
guage, he even builds a town. 


* It has been found that a three lives’ lease, in the State of New 
York, is equal to a term of more than thirty years. — Editor. 


S AT ANSTOE. 


327 


Jason was a very happy man, the moment he got his 
lease, signed and sealed, in his own possession. It made 
nim a sort of a land-holder on the spot, and one who had 
nothing to pay for ten years to come. God forgive me, if 1 
do the man injustice ; but, from the first, I had a suspicion 
that Jason trusted to fortune to prevent any pay-day from 
ever coming at all. As for Herman Mordaunt, he seemed 
satisfied, for he fancied that he had got a man of some edu- 
cation on his property, who might answer a good purpose 
in civilizing, and in otherwise advancing the interests of his 
estate. 

Just as the rays of the rising sun streamed through the 
crevices of our log tenement, and ere one of us three idlers 
had risen from his pallet, I heard a moccasined foot moving 
near me, in the nearly noiseless tread of an Indian. Spring- 
ing to my feet, I found myself face to face with the missing 
Onondago ! 

“ You here, Susquesus !” I exclaimed ; “ we supposed 
you had abandoned us. What has brought you back?” 

“ Time to go, now,” answered the Indian, quietly. 
“ Yengeese and Canada warrior soon fight.” 

“ Is this true ! — And do you, can you know it to be true ! 
Where have you been this fortnight past?” 

“Been see — have see — know him just so. Come — call 
young men ; go on war-path.” 

Here, then, was an explanation of the mystery of the 
Onondago’s absence ! He had heard us speak of an inten- 
tion of moving with the troops, at the last moment, and he 
had gone to reconnoitre, in order that we might have season- 
able notice when it would be necessary to quit the ‘ Ridge,’ 
as we familiarly termed the Patent. I saw nothing treason- 
able in this, but rather deemed it a sign of friendly interest 
in our concerns; though it was certainly ‘running’ much 
farther than the Indian had been directed to proceed, and 
‘ running’ a little off the track. One might overlook such 
an irregularity in a savage, however, more especially as I 
began to weary of the monotony of our present manner of 
living, and was not sorry to discover a plausible apology for 
a change. 

The reader may be certain, it was not long before I had 
communicated the intelligence brought by the Trackless, to 


328 


SATANSTOE. 


*1 


my companions ; who received it as young men would bo 
apt to listen to tidings so stirring. The Onondago was 
summoned to our council, and he renewed his protestation 
that it was time for us to be moving. 

“ No stop” — he answered, when questioned again on the 
subject ; “ time go. Canoe ready — gun loaded — warrior 
counted — chief woke up — council fire gone out. Time, 

g°-” 

“ Well then, Corny,” said Guert, rising and stretching 
his fine frame like a lion roused from his lair, “ here ’s off. 
We can go to Ravensnest to sleep, to-day ; and, to-morrow 
we will work our way out into the highway, and fall into 
the line of march of the army. I shall have another oppor- 
tunity of seeing Mary Wallace, and of telling her how much 
I love her. That will be so much gained, at all events.” 

“ No see squaw — no go to Nest !” said the Indian, with 
energy. “ War-path this way,” pointing in a direction that 
might have varied a quarter of a circle from that to Herman 
Mordaunt’s settlement. “ Bad for warrior to see squaw 
when he dig up hatchet — only make woman of him. No ; 
go this way — path there — no here — scalp there — squaw 
here.” 

As the gestures of the Onondago were quite as significant 
as his language, we had no difficulty in understanding him. 
Guert continued his questions, however, while dressing, and 
we all soon became convinced, by the words of the Indian, 
broken and abrupt as they were, that Abercrombie was on 
the point of embarking with his army on Lake George, and 
that we must needs be active, if we intended to be present 
at the contemplated operations in front of Ticonderoga. 

Our decision was soon* reached, and our preparations 
made. By packing and shouldering his knapsack, and 
arming himself, each man would be ready ; though a short 
delay grew out of the absence of Traverse and his chain- 
bearers. We wrote a letter, however, explaining the reason 
of our intended absence, promising to return as soon as the 
operations in front of Ty should be terminated. This letter 
we left with Pete, who was to remain as cook, though Jaap 
bestirred himself, loaded his broad shoulders with certain 
indispensables for our march, took his rifle, pack and horn, 
and was ready to move as soon as any of us. All this the 


SATANSTOE. 


329 


fellow did, moreover, without orders; deeming it a part c i 
his duty to follow his young master, even if he followed 
him to evil. No dog, indeed, could be truer, in this particu- 
lar, than Jaap or Jacob Satanstoe, for he had adopted the 
name of the Neck as his patronymic ; much as the nobles 
of other regions style themselves after their lands. 

When all was ready, and we were on the point of quit- 
ting the hut, the question arose seriously, whether we were 
to go by Ravensnest, or by the new route that the Onondago 
had mentioned. Path there was not, in either direction ; 
but, we had land-marks, springs, and other known signs, 
on the former; while of the latter we literally knew nothing. 
Then Anneke and Mary Wallace, with their bright, bloom- 
ing, sunny faces — bright and happy whenever we appeared, 
most certainly, of late — were in the former direction, and 
even Dirck cried out ‘for Ravensnest.’ But, on that route 
the Onondago refused to stir one foot. He stood, resembling 
a finger-post, pointing north-westerly with an immovable 
obstinacy, that threatened to bring the order of our march 
into some confusion. 

“We know nothing of that route, Trackless,” Guert ob- 
served, or rather replied, for the Indian’s manner was so 
expressive as to amount to a remark, “and we would rather 
travel a road with which we are a little acquainted. Be- 
sides, we wish to pay our parting compliments to the 
ladies.” 

“ Squaw no good, now — war-path no go to squaw. 
Huron — French warrior, here.” 

“Ay, and they are there, too. We shall be on their heels 
soon enough, by going to Ravensnest.” 

“No soon ’nough — can’t do him. Path long, time short. 
Pale-face warrior in great hurry.” 

“ Pale-face warriors’ friends are in a hurry, too — so you 
will do well to follow us, as we do not intend to follow you. 
Come, gentlemen, we will lead the Indian, as the Indian 
does not seem disposed to lead us. After a mile or two he 
will think it more honourable to go in advance; and, for 
that distance, I believe, I can show you the way.” 

“ That road good for young men who don’t want see 
enemy !” said Susquesus, with ironical point. 

“By St. Nicholas! Indian, what do you mean?” cried 

28 * 


330 


SAT ANSTOE. 


Guert, turning short on his heels and moving swiftly to- 
wards the Onondago, who did not wait for the menacing 
blow, but wheeled in his tracks and led off, at a quick pace, 
directly towards the north-west. 

I do believe that Guert pursued, for the first minute, with 
no other intention than that of laying his powerful arm on 
the offender’s shoulder ; but I dropped in on his footsteps so 
soon, Dirck following me, and Jaap Dirck, that we were all 
moving off Indian file, or in the fashion of the woods, at the 
rate of four miles in the hour, almost before we knew it. 
An impulse of that angry nature is not over in a minute, 
and, before either of us had sufficiently cooled to be entirely 
reasonable, the whole party was fairly out of sight of the 
hut. After that no one appeared to think of the necessity 
or of the expediency of reverting to the original intention. 
It was certainly indiscreet, thus to confide absolutely in the 
good faith of a savage, or a semi-savage, at least, whom we 
scarcely knew, and whom we had actually distrusted ; but 
we did it, and precisely in the manner and under the feelings 
I have described. I know that we all thought of the indis- 
cretion of which we had been guilty, after the first mile; 
but each was too proud to make the other acquainted with 
his misgivings. I say all, but Jaap ought to be excepted, 
for nothing in the shape of danger ever gave that negro any 
concern, unless it was spooks. He was afraid of ‘spooks,’ 
but he did not fear man. 

Susquesus manifested the same confidence in his know- 
ledge of the woods, while now leading the way, league after 
league through the dark forest, as he had done when he took 
us to the oak with the broken top. On this occasion, he 
guided us more by the sun, and the course generally, than 
by any acquaintance with objects that we passed ; though, 
three times that day did he point out to us particular things 
that he had before seen, while traversing the woods in direc- 
tions that crossed, at angles more or less oblique, the line of 
our present route. As for us, it was like a sailor’s pointing 
to a path on the trackless ocean. We had our pocket- 
compasses, it is true, a fed understood well enough that a 
north-west course would bring us out somewhere" near the 
foot of Lake George; bu I much doubt if we could have 


S AT ANSTOE. 


331 


made, by any means, as direct a line, by their aid, as wo 
did by that of the Indian. 

On this subject we had a discussion among ourselves, I 
well remember, when we halted to eat and rest, a little after 
the turn of the day. For five hours had we walked with 
great rapidity, much as the bird flies, so far as course was 
concerned, never turning aside, unless it might be to avoid 
some impassable obstacle; and our calculation was that we 
had made quite twenty, of the forty miles we had to go over, 
according to the Onondago’s account of the probable length 
of our journey. We had strung our sinews and hardened 
our muscles in such a way as to place us above the influ- 
ence of common fatigue ; yet, it must be confessed, the In- 
dian was much the freshest of the five, when we reached 
the spring where we dined. 

“An Indian does seem to have a nose much like that of 
a hound,” said Guert, as our appetites began to be appeased; 
“ that must be admitted. Yet I think, Corny, a compass 
would carry a man through the woods with more certainty 
than any signs on the bark of trees, or looks at the sun.” 

“A compass cannot err, of course ; but it would be a 
troublesome thing to be stopping every minute or two, to 
look at your compass, which must have time to become 
steady, you will remember, or it would become a guide that 
is worse than none.” 

“ Every minute or two ! Say once in an hour, or once 
in half an hour, at most. I would engage to travel as 
straight as the best Indian of them all, by looking at my 
compass once in half an hour.” 

Susquesus was seated near enough to us three to over- 
hear our conversation, and he understood English perfectly, 
though he spoke it in the usual, clipped manner of an Indian. 
I thought I could detect a covert gleam of contempt in his 
dark countenance, at this boast of Guert’s ; but he made no 
remark. We finished our meal, rested our legs, and, when 
our watches told us it was one o’clock, we rose in a body 
to resume our march. We were renewing the priming of 
our rifles, a precaution each man took twice every day, to 
prevent the effects of the damps of the woods, when the 
Onondago quietly fell in behind Guert, patiently waiting the 
leisure of the latter. 


332 


S AT ANSTOE. 


« We are all ready, Trackless,” cried the Albanian ; 
« give us the lead and the step, as before. ” 

“No” — answered the Indian. “Compass lead, now 
Susquesus no see any longer, — blind as young dog.” 

“Oh! that is your game, is it ! Well, let it be so. Now, 
Corny, you shall learn the virtue there is in a compass.” 

Hereupon Guert drew his compass from a pocket in his 
hunting-shirt, placed it on a log, in order to get a perfectly 
accurate start, and waited until the quivering needle had 
become perfectly stationary. Then he made his observa- 
tion, and took a large hemlock, which stood at the distance 
of some twenty rods, a great distance for a sight in the 
forest, as his land-mark, gave a shout, caught up his com- 
pass, and led off. We followed, of course, and soon reached 
the tree. As Guert now fancied he was well entered on the 
right course, he disdained to turn to renew his observation, 
but called out for us to ‘come on;’ as he had a new tree 
for his guide, and that in the true direction. We may 
have proceeded in this manner for half a mile, and I began 
to think that Guert was about to triumph — for, to me, it did 
really seem that our course was as straight as it had been 
at any time that day. Guert now began to brag of his suc- 
cess, talking to me, and at the Indian, who was between us, 
over his shoulder. 

“You see, Corny,” he said, “I am used to the bush, 
after all, and have often been up among the Mohawks, and 
on their hunts. The great point is to begin right; after 
which you can have no great trouble. Make certain of the 
first ten rods, and you can be at ease about the ten thou- 
sand that are to follow. So it is with life, Corny, boy ; 
begin right, and a young man is pretty certain of coming 
out right. I made a mistake at the start, ana you see the 
trouble it has given me. But, I was left an orphan, Little- 
page, at ten years of age ; and the boy that has neither father 
nor money, must be an uncommon boy not to kick himself 
out of the traces before he is twenty. Well, Onondago, 
what do you say to following the compass, now !” 

“ Best look at him — he tell,” answered Susquesus, our 
whole line halting to let Guert comply. 

“ This d d compass will never come round !” exclaimed 

Guert, shaking the little instrument in order to help tho 


S AT ANSTOE. 


333 


needle round to the point at which he wished to see it stand. 
“ These little devils are very apt to get out of order, Corny, 
after all.” 


“ Try more — got three” — said the Indian, hqlding up the 
number of fingers he mentioned, as was his wont, when 
mentioning numbers of any sort. 

On this hint Dirck and I drew out our compasses, and 
the three were placed on a log, at the side of which we had 
come to our halt. The result showed that the three ‘ little 
devils’ agreed most accurately, and that we were marching 
exactly south-east, instead of north-west ! Guert looked, on 
that occasion, very much as he did when he rose from the 
snow, after the hand-sled had upset with us. There was no 
resisting the truth ; we had got turned completely round, 
without knowing it. The fact that the sun was so near the 
zenith, probably contributed to our mistake ; but, any one 
who has tried the experiment, will soon ascertain how easy 
it is for him to lose his direction, beneath the obscurity and 
amid the inequalities of a virgin forest. Guert gave it up, 
like a man as he was, and the Indian again passed in front, 
without the slightest manifestation of triumph or discontent. 
It required nothing less than a thunderbolt to disturb the 
composure of that Onondago ! 

From that moment our progress was as swift as it had 
been previously to the halt ; while our course was seemingly 
as unerring as the flight of the pigeon. Susquesus did not 
steer exactly north-west, as before, however, but he inclined 
more northerly. At length, it was just as the sun ap- 
proached the summits of the western mountains, an opening 
appeared in our front, beneath the arches of the woods, and 
we knew that a lake was near us, and that we were on the 
summit of high land, though at what precise elevation could 
not yet be told. Our route had lain across hills, and through 
valleys, and along small streams ; though, as I afterwards 
ascertained, the Hudson did not run far enough north to 
intercept our march ; or rather, by a sudden turn to the 
west, it left our course clear. Had we inclined westwardly 
ourselves, we might have almost done that which Col. Fol- 
lock had once laughingly recommended to my mother, in 
order to avoid the dangers of the Powles Hook Ferry, gone 
round the river. 


334 


S AT AN STOE. 


A clearing now showed itself a little on our right ; and 
thither the Indian held his way. This clearing was not the 
result of the labours of man, but was the fruit of one of those 
forest accidents that sometimes let in the light of the sun 
upon the mysteries of the woods. This clearing was on the 
bald cap of a rocky mountain, where Indians had doubtless 
often encamped ; the vestiges of their fires proving that the 
winds had been assisted by the sister element, in clearing 
away the few stunted trees that had once grown in the 
fissures of the rocks. As it was, there might have been an 
open space of some two or three acres, that was now as 
naked as if it had never known any vegetation more ambi- 
tious than the bush of the whortleberry or the honeysuckle. 
Delicious water was spouting from a higher ridge of the 
rocks, that led away northerly, forming the summit of an 
extensive range in that direction. At this spring Susquesus 
stooped to drink; then he announced that our day’s work 
was done. 

Until this announcement, I do not believe that one of us 
all had taken the time to look about him, so earnest and 
rapid had been our march. Now, however, each man threw 
aside his pack, laid down his rifle, and, thus disencumbered, 
we turned to gaze on one of the most surprisingly beautiful 
scenes eye of mine had ever beheld. 

From what I have read and heard, I am now fully aware, 
that the grandest of our American scenery falls far behind 
that which is to be found among the lakes and precipices of 
the Alps, and along the almost miraculous coast of the Me- 
diterranean ; and I shall not pretend that the view I now 
beheld approached many, in magnificence, that are to bo 
met with in those magic regions. Nevertheless, it was both 
grand and soft ; and it had one element of vastness, in the 
green mantle of its interminable woods, that is not often to 
be met with in countries that have long submitted to the 
sway of man. Such as it was, I shall endeavour to de- 
scribe it. 

Beneath us, at the distance of near a thousand feet, lay a 
lake of the most limpid and placid water, that was beautifully 
diversified in shape, by means of bluffs, bays, and curvatures 
of the shores, and which had an extent of near forty miles. 
We were on its eastern margin, and about one-third of the 


S AT ANSTOE. 


335 


distance from its southern to its northern end. Counties* 
islands lay almost under our feet, rendering the mixture of 
land and water, at that particular point, as various and fan- 
ciful as the human imagination could desire. To the north, 
the placid sheet extended a great distance, bounded by rocky 
precipices, passing by a narrow gorge into a wider and 
larger estuary beyond. To the south, the water lay ex- 
panded to its oval termination, with here and there an 
island to relieve the surface. In that direction only, were 
any of the results of human industry to be traced. Every- 
where else, the gorges, the receding valleys, the long ranges 
of hills, and the bald caps of granite, presented nothing to 
the eye but the unwearying charms of nature. Far as the 
eye could reach, mountain behind mountain, the earth was 
covered with its green mantle of luxuriant leaves ; such as 
vegetation bestows on a virgin soil beneath a beneficent sun. 
The rolling and variegated carpet of the earth resembled a 
firmament reversed, with clouds composed of foliage. 

At the southern termination of the lake, however, there 
was an opening in the forest of considerable extent ; and 
one that had been so thoroughly made as to leave few or no 
trees. From this point we were distant several miles, and 
that distance necessarily rendered objects indistinct; though 
we had little difficulty in perceiving the ruins of extensive 
fortifications. A thousand white specks, we now ascertained 
to be tents, for the works were all that remained of Fort 
William Henry, and there lay encamped the army of Aber- 
crombie ; much the largest force that had then ever collected 
in America, under the colours of England. History has 
since informed us that this army contained the formidable 
number of sixteen thousand men. Hundreds of boats, large 
batteaux, that were capable of carrying forty or fifty men, 
were moving about in front of the encampment, and, remote 
as we were, it was not impossible to discover the signs of 
preparation, and of an early movement. The Indian had 
not deceived us thus far, at least, but had shown himself an 
intelligent judge of what was going on, as well as a faithful 
guide. 

We were to pass the night on the mountain. Our beds 
were none of the best, as the reader may suppose, and our 
cover slight ; yet I do not remember to have opened my 


330 


S AT ANSTOE. 


eyes from the moment they were closed, until I awoke in the 
morning. The fatigue of a forced march did that for us 
which down cannot obtain for the voluptuary, and we all 
slept as profoundly as children. Consciousness returned to 
me, by means of a gentle shake of the shoulder, which pro- 
ceeded from Susquesus. On arising, I found the Indian 
still near me, his countenance, for the first time since I had 
known him, expressing something like an animated pleasure. 
He had awoke none of the others, and he signed for me to 
follow him, without arousing either of my companions. 
Why I had been thus particularly selected for the scene that 
succeeded, I cannot say, unless the Onondago’s native saga- 
city had taught him to distinguish between the educations 
and feelings of us three young men. So it was, however, 
and I left the rude shelter we had prepared for the night, 
alone. 

A glorious sight awaited me ! The sun had just tipped 
the mountain-tops with gold, while the lake and the valleys, 
the hill-sides even, and the entire world beneath, still reposed 
in shadow. It appeared to me like the awakening of created 
things from the sleep of nature. For a moment or more, I 
could only gaze on the wonderful picture presented by the 
strong contrast between the golden hill-tops and their sha- 
dowed sides — the promises of day and the vestiges of night. 
But the Onondago was too much engrossed with his own 
feelings, to suffer me long to disregard what he conceived 
to be the principal point of interest. Directed by his finger 
and eye, for he spoke not, I turned my look towards the 
distant shore of William Henry, and at once perceived the 
cause of his unusual excitement. As soon as the Indian 
was certain that I saw the objects that attracted himself so 
strongly, he exclaimed with a strong, guttural, emphatic 
cadence — 

“ Good !” 

Abercrombie’s army was actually in motion! Sixteen 
thousand men had embarked in boats, and were moving 
towards the northern end of the lake, with imposing force, 
and a most beautiful accuracy. The unruffled surface of 
the lake was dotted with the flotilla, boats in hundreds 
stretching across it in long, dark lines, moving on towards 
their point of destination with the method and concert of an 


3ATANSTOE. 


337 

army with its wings displayed. The last brigade of boats 
had just left the shore when I first saw this striking specta- 
cle, and the whole picture lay spread before me at a single 
glance. America had never before witnessed such a sight ; 
and it may be long before she will again witness such an- 
other. For several minutes I stood entranced ; nor did 1 
speak until the rays of the sun had penetrated the dusky 
light that lay on the inferior world, as low as the bases of 
the western mountains. 

“ What are we to do, Susquesus?” I then asked, feeling 
how much right the Indian now might justly claim to govern 
our movements. 

“Eat breakfast, first” — the Onondago quietly replied; 
<{ then go down mountain.” 

“ Neither of which will place us in the midst of that gal 
lant army, as it is our wish to be.” 

“ See, bye’m by. Injin know — no hurry, now. Hurry 
come, when Frenchman shoot.” 

I did not like this speech, nor the manner in which it was 
uttered ; but there were too many things to think of, just 
then, to be long occupied by vague conjectures touching the 
Onondago’s evasive allusions. Guert and Dirck were called, 
and made to share in the pleasure that such a sight could 
not fail to communicate. Then it was I got the first notion 
of what I should call the truly martial character of Ten 
Eyck. His fine, manly figure appeared to me to enlarge, 
his countenance actually became illuminated, and the ex- 
pression of his eye, usually so full of good-nature and fun, 
seemed to change its character entirely, to one of sternness 
and severity. 

“ This is a noble sight, Mr. Littlepage,” Guert remarked, 
after gazing at the measured but quick movement of the 
flotilla, for some time, in silence — “ a truly noble sight, and 
it is a reproach to us three for having lost so much time in 
the woods, when we ought to have been there , ready to aid 
in driving the French from the province.” 

“ We are not too late, my good friend, as the first blow 
yet remains to be struck.” 

“ You say true, and I shall join that army, if I have to 
swim to reach the boats. It will be no difficult thing for us 
to swim from o ae of these islands to another, and the troops 

29 


338 


S ATANSTOE. 


must pass through the midst of them, in order to get into 
the lower lake. Any reasonable man would stop to pick 
us up.” 

“ No need,” said the Onondago, in his quiet way. “ Eat 
breakfast ; then go. Got canoe — that ’nough.” 

“A canoe! By St. Nicholas! Mr. Susquesus, I’ll tell 
you what it is — you shall never want a friend as long as 
Guert Ten Eyck is living, and able to assist you. That 
idea of the canoe is a most thoughtful one, and shows that 
a reasoning man has had the care of us. We can now 
join the troops, with the rifles in our hand, as becomes gen- 
tlemen and volunteers.” 

By this time Jaap was up, and looking at the scene, with 
all his eyes. It is scarcely necessary to describe the effect 
on a negro. He laughed in fits, shook his head like the 
Chinese figure of a mandarin, rolled over on the rocks, 
arose, shook himself like a dog that quits the water, laughed 
again, and finally shouted. As we were all accustomed to 
these displays of negro sensibility, they only excited a smile 
among us, and not even that from Dirck. As for the Indian, 
he took no more notice of these natural, but undignified 
signs of pleasure, in Jaap, than if the latter had been a dog, 
or any other unintellectual animal. Perhaps no weakness 
would be so likely to excite his contempt, as to be a wit- 
ness of so complete an absence of self-command, as the un- 
tutored negro manifested on this occasion. 

As soon as our first curiosity and interest were a little 
abated, we applied ourselves to the necessary duty of break- 
ing our fasts. The meal was soon despatched ; and, to say 
the truth, it was not of a quality to detain one long from any- 
thing of interest. The moment we had finished, the whole 
party left the cap of the moun ain, following our guide as 
usual. 

The Onondago had purposely brought us to that lookout, 
a spot known to him, in order that we might get the view 
of its panorama. It was impossible to descend to the lake- 
shore at that spot, however, and we were obliged to make a 
detour of three or four miles, in order to reach a ravine, by 
means of which, and not without difficulty either, that im- 
portant object was obtained. Here we found a bark canop. 


SATANSTOE. 339 

of a size sufficient to hold all five of us, and we embarked 
without a moment’s delay. 

The wind had sprung up from the south, as the day ad- 
vanced, and the flotilla of boats was coming on, at a greatly 
increased rate, as to speed. By the time we had threaded 
our way through the islands, and reached the main channel, 
if indeed any one passage could be so termed, among such a 
variety, the leading boat of the army was within hail. The 
Indian paddled, and, waving his hand in sign of amity, he 
soon brought us alongside of the batteau. As we approached 
it, however, I observed the fine, large form of the Viscount 
Howe, standing erect in its bows, dressed in his Light In- 
fantry Forest Uniform, as if eager to be literally the fore- 
most man of a movement, in the success of which, the honour 
of the British empire, itself, was felt to be concerned. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

“ My sons ? It may 

Unman my heart, and the poor boys will weep ; 

And what can I reply, to comfort them, 

Save with some hollow hopes, and ill-worn smiles ? 

Sardanapalus . 

My Lord Howe did not at first recognise us, in our hunt- 
ing-shirts. With Guert Ten Eyck, however, he had formed 
such an acquaintance, while at Albany, as caused him to 
remember his voice, and our welcome was both frank and 
cordial. We inquired for the th, declaring our inten- 

tion to join that corps, from the commander of which all 
three of us had reiterated and pressing invitations to join his 
mess. The intention of seeking our friend immediately, 
nevertheless, was changed by a remark of our present host, 
if one may use such a term as applied to the commander of 
a brigade of boats. 


340 


SATANSTOE. 


“ Bulstrode’s regiment is in the centre, and will be early 
_n the field,” he said ; “ but not as early as the advanced 
guard. If you desire good living, gentlemen, I am far from 
wishing to dissuade you from seeking the flesh-pots of the 

th ; there being a certain Mr. Billings, in that corps, 

who has an extraordinary faculty, they tell me, in getting 
up a good dinner out of nothing; but, if you want service, 
we shall certainly be the first brigade in action ; and, to such 
fare as I can command, you will be most acceptable guests. 
As for anything else, time must show.” 

After this, no more was said about looking for Bulstrode ; 
though we let our noble commander understand, that we 
should tax his hospitality no longer than to see him fairly 
in the field, after driving away the party that it was ex- 
pected the enemy would send to oppose our landing. 

Susquesus no sooner learned our decision, than he took 
his departure, quietly paddling away towards the eastern 
shore ; no one attempting to intercept a canoe that was seen 
to quit the batteau that was known to carry the commander 
of the advanced brigade. 

The wind freshened, as the day advanced, and most of 
the boats having something or other in the shape of a sail, 
our progress now became quite rapid. By nine o’clock we 
were fairly in the Lower Lake, and there was every pros- 
pect of our reaching our point of destination by mid-day. 1 
confess, the business we were on, the novelty of my situa- 
tion, and the certainty that we should meet in Montcalm an 
experienced as well as a most gallant foe, conspired to ren- 
der me thoughtful, though I trust not timid, during the few 
hours we were in the batteau. Perfectly inactive, it is not 
surprising that so young a soldier should feel sobered by the 
solemn reflections that are apt to get possession of the mind, 
at the probable approach of death — if not to myself, at least 
to many of those who were around me. Nor was there 
anything boastful or inflated in the manner or conversation 
of our distinguished leader, who had seen much warm ser- 
vice in Germany, in the wars of his reputed grandfather and 
uncle, young as he was. On the contrary, My Lord Howe, 
that day, was grave and thoughtful, as became a man who 
held the lives of others in his keeping, though he was neither 
depressed nor doubting. There were moments, indeed, when 


SATANSTOE. 


341 


he spoke cheerfully to those who were near him ; though, as 
a whole, his deportment was, as I have just said, grave and 
thoughtful. Once I caught his eye fastened on me, with a 
saddened expression ; and, I suppose that a question he soon 
after put me, was connected with the subject of his thoughts. 

“ How would our excellent and respectable friend, Madam 
Schuyler, feel, did she know our precise position at this 
moment, Mr. Littlepage? I do believe that excellent wo- 
man feels more concern for those in whom she takes an 
interest, than they often feel for themselves.” 

“ I think, my lord, that, in such a case, we should cer- 
tainly receive the benefit of her prayers.” 

“ You are an only child, I think she told me, Little- 
page?” 

“ I am, my lord ; and thankful am I that my mother can- 
not foresee this scene.” 

“ I, too, have those that love me, though they are accus- 
tomed to think of me as a soldier, and liable to a soldier’s 
risks. Happy is the military man who can possess his mind, 
in the moment of trial, free from the embarrassing, though 
pleasing, and otherwise so grateful ties of affection. But, 
we are nearing the shore, and must attend to duty.” 

This is the last conversation I held with that brave sol- 
dier ; and these were the last words, of a private nature, I 
ever heard him utter. From that moment, his whole soul 
seemed occupied with the discharge of his duty, the success 
of our arms, and the defeat of the enemy. 

I am not soldier enough to describe what followed in a 
very military or intelligible manner. As the brigade drew 
near the foot of the lake, where there was a wide extent of 
low land, principally in forest, however, some batteaux were 
brought to the front, on which were mounted a number of 
pieces of heavy artillery. The French had a party of con- 
siderable force to oppose our landing; but, as it appeared 
they had not made a sufficient provision of guns, on their 
part, to contend with success ; and our grape scouring the 
woods, we met with but little real resistance. Nor did we 
assail them precisely at the point where we were expected 
but proceeded rather to the right of their position. At the 
signal, the advanced brigade pushed for the shore, led by 
our gallant commander, and we were all soon on terra firmd, 
29 * 


342 


SATANSTOE. 


without sustaining any loss worth naming. VVe four, that 
is, Guert, Dirck, myself and Jaap, kept as hear as was 
proper to the noble brigadier, who instantly ordered an ad- 
vance, to press the retreating foe. The skirmishing was 
not sharp, however, and we gained ground fast, the enemy 
retiring in the direction of Ticonderoga, and we pressing on 
their rear, quite as fast as prudence and our preparations 
would allow. I could see that a cloud of Indians was in 
our front, and will own, that I felt afraid of an ambush ; for 
the artful warfare practised by those beings of the wood, 
could not but be familiar, by tradition at least, to one born 
and educated in the colonies. We had landed in a cove, 
not literally at the foot of the lake, but rather on its western 
side ; and room was no sooner obtained, than Gen. Aber- 
crombie got most of his force on shore, and formed it, as 
speedily as possible, in columns. Of these columns we had 
four, the two in the centre being composed entirely of King’s 
troops, six regiments in all, numbering more than as many 
thousand men ; while five thousand provincials were on the 
flanks, leaving quite four thousand of the latter with the 
boats, of which this vast flotilla actually contained the large 
number of one thousand and twenty-five ! All our boats, 
however, had not yet reached the point of debarkation ; 
those with the stores, artillery, &c., &c., being still some 
distance in the rear. 

Our party was now placed with the right centre column, 
at the head of which marched our noble acquaintance. The 
enemy had posted a single battalion in a log encampment, 
near the ordinary landing ; but finding the character of the 
force with which he was about to be assailed, its command- 
ant set fire to his huts and retreated. The skirmishing was 
now even of less moment than it had been on landing, and 
we all moved forward in high spirits, though the w&nt of 
guides, the density of the woods, and the difficulties of the 
ground, soon produced a certain degree of confusion in our 
march. The columns got entangled with each other, and 
no one seemed to possess the means of promptly extricating 
them from this awkward embarrassment. Want of guides 
was the great evil under which we laboured ; but it was an 
evil that it was now too late to remedy. 

Our column, notwithstanding, or its head rather, continued 


S AT ANSTOE. 


343 


to advance, with its gallant leader keeping even pace with 
its foremost platoon. We four volunteers acted as lookouts, 
a little on its flank ; and I trust there will be no boasting, 
if I say, we kept rather in advance of the leading files, than 
otherwise. In this state of things, French uniforms were 
seen in front, and a pretty strong party of the enemy was 
encountered, wandering, like ourselves, a little uncertain of 
the route they ought to take, in order to reach their entrench- 
ments in the shortest time. As a matter of course, this 
party could not pass the head of our column, without bring- 
ing on a collision, though it were one that was only mo- 
mentary. Which party gave the first fire, I cannot say, 
though I thought it was the French. The discharge was 
not heavy, however, and was almost immediately mutual. 
I know that all four of us let ofF our rifles, and that we 
halted, under a cover, to reload. I had just driven the ball 
down, when my eye caught the signs of some confusion in 
the head of the column, and I saw the body of an officer 
borne to the rear. It whs that of Lord Howe ! He had 
fallen at the first serious discharge made by the enemy in 
that campaign ! The fall of its leader, so immediately in 
its presence, seemed to rouse the column into a sense of 
the necessity of doing something effective, and it assaulted 
the party in its front with the rage of so many tigers, dis- 
persing the enemy like chaff ; making a considerable num- 
ber of prisoners, besides killing and wounding not a few. 

I never saw a man more thoroughly aroused than was 
Guert Ten Eyck, in this little affair. He had been much 
noticed by Lord Howe, during the residence of that unfor- 
tunate nobleman at Albany ; and the loss of the last appeared 
to awaken all that there was of the ferocious in the nature 
of my usually kind-hearted Albany friend. He acted as our 
immediate commander ; and he led us forward on the heels 
of the retreating French, until we actually came in sight of 
their entrenchments. Then, indeed, we all saw it was ne- 
cessary to retreat in our turn ; and Guert consented to fall 
back, though it was done surlily, and like a lion at bay. A 
party of Indians pressed us hard, in this retreat, and we ran 
an imminent risk of our scalps ; all of which, I have ever 
believed, would have been lost, were it not for the resolu- 
tion and Herculean strength of Jaap. It happened, as wo 


344 


SATANSTOB. 


were dodging from tree to tree, that all four of our rifles 
were discharged at the same time ; a circumstance of which 
our assailants availed themselves to make a rush at us. 
Luckily the weight of the onset fell on Jaap, who clubbed 
his rifle, and literally knocked down in succession the three 
Indians that first reached him. This intrepidity and success 
gave us time to reload; and Dirck, ever a cool and capital 
shot, laid the fourth Huron on his face, with a ball through 
his heart. Guert then held his fire, and called on Jaap to 
retreat. He was obeyed ; and under ’cover of our two rifles, 
the whole party got off ; the red-skins being too thoroughly 
rebuked to press us very closely, after the specimen they 
had just received of the stuff of which we were made. 

We owed our escape, however, as much to another cir- 
cumstance, as to this resolution of Jaap, and the expedient 
of Guert. Among the provincials was a partisan of great 
repute, of the name of Rogers. This officer led a party of 
riflemen on our left flank, and he drove in the enemy’s skir- 
mishers, along his own front, with rapidity, causing them to 
suffer a considerable loss. By this means, the Indians 
before us were held in check ; as there was the danger that 
Major Rogers’s party might fall in upon their rear, should 
they attempt to pursue us, and thus cut them off from their 
allies. It was well it was so; inasmuch as we had to fall 
back more than a mile, ere we reached the spot where Aber- 
crombie brought his columns to a halt, and encamped for 
the night. This position was distant about two miles from 
the works before Ticonderoga ; and consequently at no 
great distance from the outlet of Lake George. Here the 
army was brought into good order, and took up its station 
for some little time. 

It was necessary to await the arrival of the stores, ammu- 
nition and artillery. As the bringing up these materials, 
through a country that was little else than a virgin forest, 
was no easy task, it occupied us quite two days. Melan- 
choly days they were, too; the death of Lord Howe acting 
on the whole army much as if it had been a defeat. He 
was the idol of the King’s troops, and he had rendered him- 
self as popular with us Americans, as with his own coun- 
trymen. A sort of ominous sadness prevailed among us ; 


SATANSTOE. 345 

each common man appearing to feel his loss as he might 
have felt that of a brother. 

We looked up the th, and joined Bulstrode, as soon 

as we reached the ground chosen for the new encampment. 
Our reception was friendly, and even kind ; and it became 
warmer still, as soon as it was understood that we composed 
the little party that had skirmished so freely on the flank 
of the right centre column, and which was known to have 
gone farther in advance than any one else, in that part of 
the field. Thus we joined our corps with some eclat , at the 
very outset, everybody welcoming us cordially, and with 
seeming sincerity. 

Nevertheless, the general sadness existed in the th, 

as well as in all the other corps. Lord Howe was as much 
beloved in that regiment, as in any other; and our meeting 
and subsequent intercourse could not be called joyful. Bul- 
strode had an extensive and important command, for his 
rank and years, and he certainly was proud of his position ; 
but I could see that even his elastic and usually gay temper- 
ament was much affected by what had occurred. That 
night we walked together, apart from our companions, when 
he spoke on the subject of our loss. 

“ It may appear strange to you, Corny,” he said, “ to find 
so much depression in camp, after a debarkation that has 
certainly been successful, and a little affair that has given 
us, as they assure me, a couple of hundred prisoners. I tell 
you, however, my friend, it were better for this army to 
have seen its best corps annihilated, than to have lost the 
man it has. Howe was literally the soul of this entire force. 
He was a soldier by nature, and made all around him sol- 
diers. As for the Commander-In-Chief, he does not under- 
stand you Americans, and will not use you as he ought ; 
then he does not understand the nature of the warfare of this 
continent, and will be very likely to make a blunder. I ’ll 
tell you how it is, Corny ; Howe had as much influence 
with Abercrombie, as he had with every one else ; and an 
attempt will be made to introduce his mode of fighting; but 
such a man as Lord Howe requires another Lord Howe to 
carry out his own conceptions. That is the point on which, 
I fear, we shall fail.” 

All this sounded very sensible to me, though it sounded 


346 


SATAN STOE. 


discouragingly ; I found, however, that Bulstrode did not 
enertain these feelings alone, but that most around me were 
of the same way of thinking. In the mean time, the prepa- 
rations proceeded ; and it was understood that the 8th was 
to be the day that was to decide the fate of Ticonderoga. 
The fort proper, at this celebrated station, stands on a penin- 
sula, and can only be assailed on one side. The outworks 
were very extensive on that side, and the garrison was 
known to be formidable. As these outworks, however, con- 
sisted principally of a log breastwork, and it could be ap- 
proached through open woods, which of itself afforded some 
cover, it was determined to carry it by storm, and, if possi- 
ble, enter the main work with the retreating enemy. Had 
we waited for our artillery, and established batteries, our 
success would have been certain ; but the engineer reported 
favourably of the other project ; and perhaps it better suited 
the temper and impatience of the whole army, to push on, 
rather than proceed by the slow movements of a regular 
siege. 

On the morning of the 8th, therefore, the troops were 
paraded for the assault, our party falling in on the flank of 

the th, as volunteers. The ground did not admit of the 

use of many horses, and Bulstrode marched with us on foot. 
I can relate but little of the general movements of that me- 
morable day, the woods concealing so much of what was 
done, on both sides. I know this, however ; that the flower 
of our army were brought into the line, and were foremost 
in the assault; including both regulars and provincials. 
The 42d, a Highland corps, that had awakened much inte- 
rest in America, both by the appearance and character of 
its men, was placed at a point where it was thought the 
heaviest service was to be performed. The 55th, another 
corps on which much reliance was placed, was also put at 
the head of another column. A swamp extending for some 
distance along the only exposed front of the peninsula, these 
two corps were designated to carry the log breastwork, that 
commenced at the point where the swamp ceases ; much the 
most arduous portion of the expected service, since this was 
the only accessible approach to the fortress itself. To 
render their position more secure, the French had placed 
several pieces of artillery in battery, along the line of this 


SATANSTOE. 


347 


breastwork ; while we had not yet a gun in front to cover 
our advance. 

It was said, that Abercrombie did not take counsel of any 
of the American officers with him, before he decided on the 
attack of the 8th of July. He had directed his principal 
engineer to reconnoitre ; and that gentleman having reported 
that the defences offered no serious scientific obstacles, the 
.assault was decided on. This report was accurate, doubt- 
less, agreeably to the principles and facts of European war- 
fare ; but it was not suited to those of the conflicts of this 
continent. It was to be regretted, however, that the expe- 
rience of 1755, and the fate of Braddock, had not inculcated 
a more extensive lesson of discretion among the royal com- 
manders, than was manifested by the incidents of this day. 

The th was placed in column directly in the rear of 

the Highlanders, who were led, on this occasion, by Col. 
Gordon Graham ; a veteran officer of great experience, and 
of an undaunted courage.* Of course, I saw this officer 
and this regiment, being as they were directly in my front, 
but I saw little else ; more especially after the smoke of the 
first discharge was added to the other obstacles to vision. 

A considerable time was consumed in making the prepa 
rations ; but, when everything was supposed to be ready, 
the columns were set in motion. It was generally under- 
stood that the troops were to receive the enemy’s fire, then 
rush forward to the breastwork, cross the latter at the bayo- 
net’s point, if it should be necessary, and deliver their own 
fire at close quarters ; or on their retreating foes. Permis- 
sion was given to us volunteers, and to divers light parties 
of irregulars, to open on any of the French of whom we 
might get glimpses, as little was expected from us in the 
charge. 

Nearly an hour was consumed in approaching the point 
of attack, owing to the difficulties of the ground, and the 
necessity of making frequent halts, in order to dress. At 


* Holmes’s Annals say, that Lord John Murray commanded the 
42d, on this occasion. I presume, as Mr. Littlepage was there, and 
was posted so near the corps in question, he cannot well be mistaken. 
Mrs. Grant, of Laggan, who was at Albany at the time, and whose 
father was in the battle, agrees with Mr. Littlepage, in saying that 
Gordon Graham led the 42d. — Editor. 


348 


S AT ANSTOE. 


length the important moment arrived when the head of the 
column was ready to unmask itself, and consequently to 
come under fire. A short halt sufficed for the arrangements 
here, when the bagpipes commenced their exciting music, 
and we broke out of cover, shouting and cheering each 
other on. We must have been within two hundred yards 
of the breastwork at the time, and the first gun discharged 
was Jaap’s, who, by working his way into the cover of the 
swamp, had got some distance ahead of us, and who actu- 
ally shot down a French officer who had got upon the logs 
of his defences, in order to reconnoitre. That assault, how- 
ever, was fearfully avenged ! The Highlanders were mov- 
ing on like a whirlwind, grave, silent and steady, cheered 
only by their music, when a sheet of flame glanced along 
the enemy’s line, and the iron and leaden messengers of 
death came whistling in among us like a hurricane. The 
Scotsmen were staggered by that shock ; but they recovered 

instantly and pressed forward. The th did not escape 

harmless, by any means ; while the din told us that the con- 
flict extended along the whole of the breastwork, towards 
the lake-shore. How many were shot down in our column, 
by that first discharge, 1 never knew ; but the slaughter was 
dreadful, and among those who fell was the veteran Graham, 
himself. I can safely say, however, that the plan of attack 
was completely deranged from this first onset; the columns 
displaying and commencing their fire as soon as possible. 
No men could have behaved better than all that I could 
see; the whole of us pushing on for the breastwork, until 
we encountered fallen trees; which were made to serve the 
purpose of chevaux-de-frise. These trees had been felled 
along the front of the breastwork, while their branches were 
cut, and pointed like stakes. It was impossible to pass in 
any order, and the troops halted when they reached them, 
and continued to fire by platoons, with as much regularity 
as on parade. A few minutes of this work, however, com- 
pelled different corps to fall back, and the vain conflict was 
continued for four hours, on our part almost entirely by a 
smart but ineffective fire of musketry ; while the French sent 
their grape into our ranks almost with as much impunity as 
if they had been on parade. It had been far better for our 
men had they been le^js disciplined, and less under the con- 


SATANSTOE. 


349 


trol of their officers ; for the sole effect of steadiness, unde* 
such circumstances, is to leave the gallant and devoted 
troops, who refuse to fall back, while they are unable to 
advance, only so much the longer in jeopardy. 

Guert had shouted with the rest ; and I soon found that, 
by following him for a leader, we should quickly be in the 
midst of the fray. He actually led us up to the fallen trees ; 
and, finding something like a cover there, we three estab- 
lished ourselves among them as riflemen, doing fully our 
share of service. When the troops fell back, however, we 
were left in a manner alone, and it was rather dangerous 
work to retire; and finding ourselves out of the line of fire 
from our own men, no immaterial point in such a fray, we 
maintained our post to the last. Admonished, after a long 
time, of the necessity of retreating, by the manner in which 
the fire of our own line lessened, we got off with sound 
skins, though Guert retired the whole distance with his 
face to the enemy, firing as he withdrew. We all did the 
last, indeed, using the trees for covers. Towards the close 
we attracted especial attention ; and there were two or three 
minutes during which the flight of bullets around us might 
truly, without much exaggeration, be likened to a storm of 
hail ! 

Jaap was not with us in this sally, and I went into the 
swamp to look for him. The search was not long, for I 
found my fellow retreating also, and bringing in with him a 
stout Canadian Indian as a prisoner. He was making his 
captive carry three discharged rides, and blankets ; one of 
which had been his own property once, and the others that 
of two of his tribe, whom the negro had left lying in the 
swamp as bloody trophies of his exploits. I cannot explain 
the philosophy of the thing, but that negro ever appeared to 
me to fight as if he enjoyed the occupation as an amuse- 
ment. 

These facts were scarcely ascertained, when we learned 
the important intelligence that a general retreat was ordered. 
Our proud and powerful army was beaten, and that, too, by 
a force two-thirds less than its own ! It is not easy to de- 
scribe the miserable scene that followed. The transporting 
of the wounded to the rear had been going on the whole time , 
and, as usually happens, when it is permitted, it had con- 
30 


350 


SATANSTOE. 


i 


tributed largely to thin the ranks. These unfortunate men 
were put into the batteaux in hundreds, while most of the 
dead were; left where they lay. So completely were our 
hopes frustrated, and our spirits lowered, that most of the 
boats pulled off that night, and all the remainder quitted the 
foot of the lake early next day. 

Thus terminated the dire expedition of 1758 against Ti 
conderoga, and with it our expectations of seeing Montreal, 
or Quebec, that season. I dare say, we had fully ten thou- 
sand bayonets in the field that bloody day, and quite five 
thousand men closely engaged. The mistake was in attempt- 
ing to carry a post that was so nearly impregnable, by as- 
sault ; and this, too, without the cover of artillery. The 
enemy was said to have four or five thousand men present , 
and this may be true, as applied to all within the defences ; 
though I question if more than half that number pulled 
triggers on us, in the miserable affair. There is always 
much of exaggeration in both the boasting and the apologies 
of war. 

Our own loss, on this sad occasion, was reported at 548 
slain, and 1356 wounded. This was probably within the 
truth ; though the missing were said to be surprisingly few, 
some thirty or forty, in all ; the men having no place to 
repair to but the boats. Of the Highlanders, it was said 
that nearly half the common men, and twenty-five, or nearly 
all the officers, were either killed or wounded ! One ac- 
count, indeed, said that every officer of that corps, who was 
on the ground, suffered. The 55th, also, was dreadfully 
cut up. Ten of its officers were slain outright, and many 

were wounded. As for the th, it fared a little better, 

not heading a column; but its loss was fearful. Bulstrode 
was seriously wounded, early in the attack, though his hurt 
was never supposed to be dangerous. Billings was left dead 
on the field, and Harris got a scratch that served him to 
talk of in after life. 

The confusion was tremendous after such a conflict and 
such a defeat. The troops re-embarked without much re- 
gard to corps or regularity of movement ; and the boats 
moved away as fast as they received their melancholy car- 
goes. An immense amount of property was lost ; though 
I believe all the customary military trophies were preserved. 


S AT ANSTOE. 


351 


As the provincials had been the least engaged, and had suf- 
fered much the least, in proportion to numbers, a large body 
of them was kept as a rear-guard, while the regular corps 
removed their wounded and materiel. 

As for us three or four, including Jaap, who stuck by his 
prisoner, we scarcely knew what to do with ourselves. 
Everybody who felt any interest in us, was either killed or 
wounded. Bulstrode we could not see ; nor could we even 
find the regiment. Should we succeed in the attempt at the 
last, very few now remained in it who would have taken 
much, or indeed any concern in us. Under the circum- 
stances, therefore, we held a consultation on the lake-shore, 
uncertain whether to ask admission into one of the depart- 
ing boats, or to remain until morning, that our retreat might 
have a more manly aspect. 

“ I ’ll tell you what it is, Corny,” said Guert Ten Eyck, 
in a somewhat positive manner, “ the less ice say about this 
campaign, and of our share in it, the petter. We are not 
soldiers, in the regular way, and if we keep quiet, nobody 
will know what a Crashing we t’ree, in particular, haf 
receivet. My advice is, t’at we get out of this army as we 
got into it — t’at is, py a one-sided movement, and for ever 
after holt our tongues about our having had anyt’ing to do 
with it. I never knew a worsted man any the more re- 
spected for his mishap ; and I will own, that I set down 
flogging as a very material part of a fight.” 

“ I am quite sure, Guert, I am as little disposed to brag 
of my share in this affair, as you or any one can possibly 
be ; but it is much easier to talk about getting away from 
this confused crowd than really to do the thing. I doubt if 
any of these boats will take us in ; for an Englishman, 
flogged, is not apt to be very good-natured ; and all our 
friends seem to be killed or wounded.” 

“ You want go ?” asked a low Indian voice at my elbow. 
“ Got ’nough, eh V* 

Turning, I saw Susquesus standing within two feet of me. 
Our consultation was necessarily in the midst of a moving 
throng; and the Onondago must have approached us, unno- 
ticed, at the commencement of our conference. There he 
was, however, though whence he came or how he got there, 


352 


SATANSTOE. 


could not imagine, at the time, and have never been able 
to learn since. 

“Can you help us to get away, Susquesus'l” was my 
answer. “ Do you know of any means of crossing the 
lake ?” 

“ Got canoe. That good. Canoe go, though Yengeese 
run.” 

“ That in which we came off to the army, do you mean V ’ 

The Indian nodded his head, and made a sign for us to 
follow. Little persuasion was necessary, and we proceeded 
at his heels, in a body, in the direction he led. I will con- 
fess, that when I saw our guide proceeding eastward, along 
the lake-shore, I had some misgivings on the subject of his 
good faith. That was the direction which took us towards, 
instead of from the enemy ; and there was something so 
mysterious in the conduct of this man, that it gave me un- 
easiness. Here he was, in the midst of the English army 
in the height of its confusion, though he had declined joining 
it previously to the battle. Nothing was easier than to enter 
the throng, in its present confused state, and move about 
undetected for hours, if one had the nerve necessary for the 
service ; and, in that property, I felt certain the Onondago 
was not deficient. There was a coolness in the manner of 
the man, a quiet observation, both blended with the seeming 
apathy of a red-skin, that gave every assurance of his fitness 
for the duty. 

Nevertheless, there was no remedy but to follow, or to 
break with our guide on the spot. We did not like to do 
the last, although we conferred together on the subject, but 
followed, keeping our hands on the locks of our rifles, in 
readiness for a brush, should we be led into danger. Sus- 
quesus had no such treacherous intentions, however, while 
he had disposed of his canoe in a place that denoted his 
judgment. We had to walk quite a mile ere we reached 
the little bush-fringed creek in which he had concealed it. 
I have always thought we ran a grave risk, in advancing so 
far in that direction, since the enemy’s Indians would cer- 
tainly be hanging around the skirts of our army, in quest 
of scalps; but I afterwards learned the secret of the Onon- 
dago’s confidence, who first spoke on the subject after we 


S AT ANSTOE . 


353 


had left the shore, and then only in an answer to a remark 
of Guert’s. 

“ No danger,” he said ; “ red-man gettin’ Yengeese scalps, 
on the war-path. Too much kill, now, to want more.” 

As both governments pursued the culpable policy of pay- 
ing for human scalps, this suggestion probably contained 
the whole truth. 

Previously to quitting the creek, however, there was a 
difficulty to dispose of. Jaap had brought his Huron pri- 
soner with him ; and the Onondago declared that the canoe 
could not carry six. This we knew from experience, in- 
deed, though five went in it very comfortably. 

“ No room,” said Susquesus, “ for red-man. Five good 
—six bad.” 

“What shall we do with the fellow, Corny?” asked 
Guert, with a little interest. “ Jaap says he is a proper 
devil, by daylight, and that he had a world of trouble in 
taking him, and in bringing him in. For five minutes, it 
was heads or tails which was to give in ; and the nigger 
only got the best of it, by his own account of the battle, be- 
cause the red-skin had the unaccountable folly to try to 
beat in Jaap’s brains. He might as well have battered the 
Rock of Gibraltar, you know, as to attempt to break a nig- 
ger’s skull, and so your fellow got the best of it. What 
shall we do with the rascal ?” 

“ Take scalp,” said the Onondago, sententiously ; “ got 
good scalp — war-lock ready — paint, war-paint — capital 
scalp.” 

“Ay, that may do better for you, Master Succetush” — 
so Guert always called our guide, “ than it will do for us 
Christians. I ’m afraid we shall have to let the ravenous 
devil go, after disarming him.” 

“ Disarmed he is already ; but he cannot be long without 
a musket, on this battle-ground. I am of your opinion, 
Guert ; so, Jaap, release your prisoner at once, that we may 
return to Ravensnest, as fast as possible.” 

“ Dat berry hard, Masser Corny, sah !” exclaimed Jaap, 
who did not half like the orders he received. 

“No words about it, sir, but cut his fastenings” — Jaap 

30 * 


354 


S AT ANSTOE. 


had tied the Indian’s arms behind him, with a rope, as an 
easy mode of leading him along. “ Do you know the man’s 
name ?” 

“ Yes, sah — he say he name be Muss” — probably Jaap’s 
defective manner of repeating some Indian sound ; “ and a 
proper muss he get in, Masser Corny, when he try to cotch 
Jaap by he wool !” 

Here I was obliged to clap my hand suddenly on the 
black’s mouth, for the fellow was so delighted with the re 
collection of the manner in which he had got the better of 
his red adversary, that he broke out into one of the uncon- 
trollable fits of noisy laughter, that are so common to his 
race. I repeated the order, somewhat sternly, for Jaap to 
cut the cords, and then to follow us to the canoe, in which 
the Onondago and my two friends had already taken their 
places. My own foot was raised to enter the canoe, when 
I heard heavy stripes inflicted on the back of some one. 
Rushing back to the spot where I had left Jaap and his cap- 
tive, Muss, I found the former inflicting a severe punish- 
ment, on the naked back of the other, with the end of the 
cord that still bound his arms. Muss, as Jaap called him, 
neither flinched nor cried. The pine stands not more erect 
or unyielding, in a summer’s noontide, than he bore up 
under the pain. Indignantly I thrust the negro away, cut 
the fellow’s bonds with my own hands, and drove my slave 
before me to the canoe. 


S AT ANSTOE. 


355 


CHAPTER XXIY. 

“ Pale set the sun — the shades of evening fell, 

The mournful night-wind sung their funeral knell $ 

And the same day beheld their warriors dead, 

Their sovereign captive and their glory fled !” 

Mns. Hemans. 

I shall never forget the journey of that fearful night* 
Susquesus paddled the canoe, unaided by us, who were too 
much fatigued with the toil of the day, to labour much, as 
soon as we found ourselves in a place of safety. Even Jaap 
lay down and slept for several hours, the sleep of the weary. 
I do not think any of us, however, actually slept for the 
first hour or two, the scenes through which we had just 
passed, and that, indeed, through which we were then pass- 
ing, acting as preventives to such an indulgence. 

It must have been about nine in the evening, when our 
canoe quitted the ill-fated shore at the south end of Lake 
George, moving steadily and silently along the eastern mar- 
gin of the sheet. By that time, fully five hundred boats had 
departed for the head of the lake, the retreat having com- 
menced long before sunset. No order was observed in this 
melancholy procession, each batteau moving off as her load 
was completed. All the wounded were on the placid bosom 
of the ‘ Holy Lake,’ as some writers have termed this sheet 
of limpid water, by the time we ourselves got in motion; 
and the sounds of parting boats told us that the unhurt were 
following as fast as circumstances would allow. 

What a night it was! There was no moon, and a veil 
of dark vapour was drawn across the vault of the heavens, 
concealing most of the mild summer stars, that ought to 
have been seen twinkling in their Creator’s praise. Down, 
between the boundaries of hills, there was not a breath of 
air, though we occasionally heard the sighings of light cur- 
rents among the tree-tops, above us. The eastern shore 
having fewer sinuosities than the western, most of the boats 
followed its dark, frowning mass, as the nearest route, and 
we soon found ourselves near the line of the retiring batteaux. 


356 


SA TANS TOE. 


* 


I call it the line, for though there was no order observed, 
each party making the best of its way to the common point 
of destination, there were so many boats in motion at the 
same time, that, far as the eye could penetrate by that 
gloomy light, an unbroken succession of them was visible. 
Our motion was faster than that of these heavily-laden and 
feebly-rowed batteaux, the soldiers being too much fatigued 
to toil at the oars, after the day they had just gone through. 
VVe consequently passed nearly everything, and soon got on 
a parallel course with that of the boats, moving along at a 
few rods in-shore of them. Dirck remarked, however, that 
two or three small craft even passed us. They went so 
near the mountain, quite within its shadows, in fact, as to 
render it difficult to say what they were ; though it was 
supposed they might be whale-boats, of which there were 
more than a hundred in the flotilla, carrying officers of 
rank. 

No one spoke. It appeared to me that not a human 
voice was raised among those humiliated and defeated thou- 
sands. The plash of oars, so long as we were at a distance 
from the line, alone broke the silence of night ; but that was 
incessant. As our canoe drew ahead, however, an hour or 
two after we had left the shore, and we overtook the boats 
that had first started, the moaning and groans of the wounded 
became blended with the monotonous sounds of the oars. In 
two respects, these unfortunate men had reason to felicitate 
themselves, notwithstanding their sufferings. No army 
could have transported its wounded with less pain to the 
hurt ; and the feverish thirst that loss of blood always in- 
duces, might be assuaged by the limpid element on which 
we all floated. 

After paddling for hours, Susquesus was relieved by Jaap , 
Dirck, Guert and myself occasionally lending our aid. 
Each had a paddle, and each used it as he saw fit, while the 
Onondago slept. Occasionally I caught a nap, myself, as 
did my companions; and we all felt refreshed by the rest 
and sleep. At length we reached the narrow pass, that 
separated the Upper from the Lower Lake, and we entered 
the former. This is near the place where the islands are 
so numerous, and we were unavoidably made to pass quite 
close to some of the batteaux. I say to some, for the line 


S ATANSTOE. 


357 


became broken at this pdint, each boat going through the 
openings it found the most convenient. 

“ Come nearer with that bark canoe,” called out an offi- 
cer, from a batteau ; “ I wish to learn who is in it.” 

“ We are volunteers, that joined the th, the day the 

army moved up, and were guests of Major Bulstrode. Pray 
sir, can you tell us where that officer can be found?” 

“ Poor Bulstrode ! He got a very awkward hit, early in 
the day, and was taken past me to the rear. He will be 
able neither to walk nor to ride, for some months, if they 
save his leg. I heard the Commander-In-Chief order him 
to be sent across the lake, in the first boat with wounded ; 
and some one told me, Bulstrode, himself, expressed an in- 
tention to be carried some distance, to a friend’s house, to 
escape from the abominations of an army hospital. The 
fellow has horses enough to transport him, on a horse-litter, 
to Cape Horn, if he wishes it. I ’ll warrant you, Bulstrode 
works his way into good quarters, if they are to be had in 
America. I suppose this arm of mine will have to come off, 
as soon as we reach Fort William Henry; and, that job 
done, I confess I should like amazingly to keep him com- 
pany. Proceed, gentlemen ; I hope I have not detained 
you ; but, observing a bark canoe, I thought it my duty to 
ascertain we were not followed by spies.” 

This, then, was another victim of war ! He spoke of the 
loss of his arm, notwithstanding, with as much coolness as 
if it were the loss of a tooth ; yet, I question not, that in 
secret, he mourned over the calamity in bitterness of heart. 
Men never wear the mask more completely than when 
excited and stimulated by the rivalry of arms. Bulstrode, 
too, at Ravensnest ! He could be carried nowhere else, so 
easily ; and, should his wound be of a nature that did not 
require constant medical treatment, where could he be so 
happily bestowed as under the roof of Herman Mordaunt? 
Shall I confess that the idea gave me great pain, and that 
I was fool enough to wish I, too, could return to Anneke, 
and appeal to her sympathies, by dragging with me a 
wounded limb ! 

Our canoe now passed quite near another battcsiu, the 
officer in command of which was standing erect, seemingly 
watching our movements. He appeared to be unhurt, but 


358 


S AT AN STOE. 


was probably intrusted with softie special duty. As we 
paddled by, the following curious conversation occurred. 

“ You move rapidly to the rear, my friends,” observed 
the stranger; “pray moderate your zeal; others are in 
advance of you with the evil tidings !” 

“ You must think ill of our patriotism and loyalty, sir, to 
imagine we are hastening on with the intelligence of a check 
to the British arms,” I answered as drily, and almost as 
equivocally, in manner, as the other had spoken. 

“ The check ! — I beg a thousand pardons — I see you are 
patriots, and of the purest water! Check is just the word : 
though check-mate would be more descriptive and signifi- 
cant ! A charming time we’ve had of it, gentlemen ! What 
say you ? — it is your move, now.” 

“ There has been much firmness and gallantry manifested 
by the troops,” I answered, “ as we, who have been merely 
volunteers, will always be ready to testify.” 

“I beg your pardons, again and again,” returned the 
officer, raising his hat and bowing profoundly — “ I did not 
know I had the honour to address volunteers. You are 
entitled to superlative respect, gentlemen, having come vo- 
luntarily into such a field. For my part, I find the honour 
oppressive, having no such supererogatory virtue to boast 
of. Volunteers ! On my word, gentlemen, you will have 
many wonders to relate, when you get back into the family 
circle.” 

“ We shall have to speak of the gallantry of the High- 
landers, for we saw all they did and all they suffered.” 

“Ah ! Were you, then, near that brave corps !” ex- 
claimed the other, with something like honest, natural feel- 
ing, for the first time exhibited in his voice and meaning; 
“ I honour men who were only spectators of so much cou- 
rage, especially if they took a tolerably near view of it. 
May I venture to ask your names, gentlemen.” 

I answered, giving him our names, and mentioning the 
fact that we had been the guest of Bulstrode, and how much 
we were disappointed in having missed not only our friend, 
but his corps. 

“ Gentlemen, I honour courage, let it come whence it 
may,” said the stranger, with strong feeling, and no acting, 
“ and most admire it when I see it exhibited by natives of 


SATANSTOE. 


359 


these colonies, in a quarrel of their own. I have heard of 
you as being with poor Howe, when he fell, and hope to 
know more of you. As for Mr. Bulstrode, he has passed 
southward, now some hours, and intends to make his cure 
among some connections that he has in this province. Do 
not let this be the last of our intercourse, I beg of you ; but 

look up Capt. Charles Lee, of the th, who will be glad 

to take each and all of you by the hand, when we once more 
get into camp. ,, 

We expressed our thanks, but Susquesus causing the 
canoe to make a sudden inclination towards the shore, the 
conversation was suddenly interrupted. 

By this time the Indian was awake, and exercising his 
authority in the canoe, again. Gliding among the islands, 
he shortly landed us at the precise point where we had em- 
barked only five days before. Securing his little bark, the 
Onondago led the way up the ravine, and brought us out on 
the naked cap of the mountain, where we had before slept, 
after an hour of extreme effort. 

If the night had been so memorable, the picture presented 
at the dawn of day, was not less so ! We reached that lofty 
look-out about the same time in the morning as the Indian 
had awakened me on the previous occasion, and had the same 
natural outlines to the view. In one sense, also, the artifi- 
cial accessaries were the same, though exhibited under a 
very different aspect. I presume th6 truth will not be much, 
if any exceeded, when I say that a thousand boats were in 
sight, on this, as on the former occasion ! A few, a dozen 
or so, at most, appeared to have reached the head of the 
lake ; but all the rest of that vast flotilla was scattered along 
the placid surface of the lovely sheet, forming a long, strag- 
gling line of dark spots, that extended to the beach under 
Fort William Henry, in one direction, and far as eye could 
reach in the other. How different did that melancholy, 
broken procession of boats appear, from the gallant array, 
the martial bands, the cheerful troops, and the multitude of 
ardent young men who had pressed forward, in brigades, 
less than a week before, filled with hope, and exulting in 
their strength ! As I gazed on the picture, a could not but 
fancy to myself the vast amount of physical pain, the keen 
mental suffering, and the deep mortification that might have 


SATANSTOE. 


360 

been found, amid that horde of returning adventurers. We 
had just come up from the level of this scene of human 
agony, and our imaginations could portray details that were 
beyond the reach of the senses, at the elevation on which we 
stood. 

A week before, and the name of Abercrombie filled every 
mouth in America ; expectation had almost placed his re- 
nown on that giddy height, where performance itself is so 
often insecure. In the brief interval, he was destroyed. 
Those who had been ready to bless him, would now heap 
curses on his devoted head, and none would be so bold as 
to urge aught in his favour. Men in masses, when goaded 
by disappointment, are never just. It is, indeed, a hard 
lesson for the individual to acquire; but, released from his 
close, personal responsibility, the single man follows the 
crowd, and soothes his own mortification and wounded pride 
by joining in the cry that is to immolate a victim. Yet 
Abercrombie was not the foolhardy and besotted bully that 
Braddock had proved himself to be. His misfortune was to 
be ignorant of the warfare of the region in which he was 
required to serve, and possibly to over-estimate the imagi- 
nary invincible character of the veterans he led. In a very 
short time he was recalled, and America heard no more of 
him. As some relief to the disgrace that had anew alighted 
on the British arms, Bradstreet, a soldier who knew the 
country, and who placed much reliance on the young man 
of her name and family whom I had met at Madam Schuy- 
ler’s, marched against Frontenac, in Canada, at the head of 
a strong body of provincials ; an enterprise that, as it was 
conducted with skill, resulted in a triumph. 

But with all this my narrative has no proper connection. 
No sooner did we reach the bald mountain-top, than, tho 
Onondago directed Jaap to light a fire, while he produced, 
from a deposit left on the advance, certain of the materials 
that were necessary to a meal. As neither of us had tasted 
food since the morning of the previous day, this repast was 
welcome, and we all partook of it like so many famished 
men. The negro got his share, of course, and then we 
called a council as to future proceedings. 

“ The question is, whether we ought to make a straight 
path to Ravensnest,” observed Guert, “ or proceed first to 


S AT ANSTOE. 


361 


the surveyor’s, and sec how things are going on in that di- 
rection.” 

“As there can be no great danger of a pursuit on the pari 
of the French, since all their boats are in the other lake,” I 
remarked, “ the state of the country is very much what it 
was before the army moved.” 

“Ask that question of the Indian,” put in Dirck, a little 
significantly. 

We looked at Susquesus inquiringly, for a look always 
sufficed to let him comprehend us, when a tolerably plair 
allusion had been previously made. 

“ Black-man do foolish t’ing,” observed the Onondago. 

“ What I do, you red-skin devil ?” demanded Jaap, whc 
felt a sort of natural antipathy to all Indians, good or bad, 
Bxcellent or indifferent ; a feeling that the Indians repaid to 
nis race by contempt indifferently concealed. “ What I do, 
red-devil, ha? — dat you dares tell Masser Corny dat /” 

Susquesus manifested no resentment at this strong and 
somewhat rude appeal ; but sat as motionless as if he had 
not heard it. This vexed Jaap so much the more ; and, my 
fellow being exceedingly pugnacious on all occasions that 
touched his pride, there might have been immediate war 
between the two, had I not raised a finger, at once effectu- 
ally stilling the outbreak of Jacob Satanstoe’s wrath. 

“ You should not bring such a charge against my slave, 
Onondago,” I said, “ unless able to prove it.” 

“ He beat red warrior like dog.” 

“ What of dat !” growled Jaap, who was only half-quieted 
by my sign. “ Who ebber hear it hurt red-skin to rope-end 
him ?” 

“ Warrior back like squaw’s. Blow hurt him. He never 
forget.” 

“ Well, let him remember den,” grinned the negro, show- 
ing his ivory teeth from ear to ear. “Muss was my pri- 
soner ; and what good he do me, if he let go widout punish- 
ment. I wish you tell Masser Corny dat , instead of fellin' 
him nonsense. When he flog me, who ebber hear me 
grumble ?” 

“ You have not had half enough of it, Jaap, or your 
manners would be better,” I thought it necessary to put in, 
for the fellow had never before manifested so quarrelsome a 


S AT ANSTOE. 


362 

disposition in my presence ; most probably because I had 
• never before seen him at variance with an Indian. “ Let 
me hear no more of this, or I shall be obliged to pay off the 
arrears on the spot.” 

“A little hiding does a nigger good, sometimes,” observed 
Guert, significantly. 

I observed that Dirck, who loved my very slave princi- 
pally because he was mine, looked at the offender reprov- 
ingly ; and by these combined demonstrations, we succeeded 
in curbing the fellow’s tongue. 

“ Well, Susquesus,” I added, “ we all listen, to hear what 
you mean. 

“ Musquerusque chief — Huron chief — got very tender 
back ; never forget rope.” 

“ You mean us to understand that my black’s prisoner 
will be apt to make some attempt to revenge himself for the 
flogging he got from his captor?” 

“ Just so. Indian good memory — no forget friend — no 
forget enemy.” 

“ But your Huron will be puzzled to find us, Onondago. 
He will suppose us with the army ; and, should he even 
venture to look for us there, you see he will be disap- 
pointed.” 

“Never know. Wood full of paths — Injin full of cun- 
ning. Why talk of Ravensnest?” 

“ Was the name of Ravensnest mentioned in the presence 
of that Huron?” I asked, more uneasy than such a trifle 
would probably have justified me in confessing. 

“Ay, something was said about it , but not in a way the 
fellow could understand,” answered Guert, carelessly. “Let 
him come on, if he has not had enough of us yet.” 

This was not my manner of viewing the matter, however; 
for the mentioning of Ravensnest brought Anneke to my 
mind, surrounded by the horrors of an Indian’s revenge. 

“ I will send you back to the Huron, Susquesus,” I added, 
“ if you can name to me the price that will purchase his for- 
giveness.” 

The Onondago looked at me meaningly a moment; then, 
bending forward, he passed the fore-finger of his hand 
around the head of Jaap, along the line that is commonly 
made by the knife of the warrior, as he cuts away the trophy 


S AT ANSTOE . 


363 


of success from his victim. Jaap comprehended the mean- 
ing of this very significant gesture, as well as any of us, 
and the manner in which he clutched the wool, as if to keep 
the scalp in its place, set us all laughing. The negro did 
not partake of our mirth ; but I saw that he regarded the 
Indian, much as the bull-dog shows his teeth, before he 
makes his spring. Another motion of my finger, however, 
quelled the rising. It was necessary to put an end to this, 
and Jaap was ordered to prepare our packs, in readiness for 
the expected march. Relieved from his presence, Susque- 
sus was asked to be more explicit. 

“ You know Injin,” the Onondago answered. “ Now ho 
t’ink red-coats driv’ away and skeared, he go look for scalp. 
Love all sort scalp — old scalp, young scalp — man scalp, 
woman scalp — boy scalp, gal scalp — all get pay, all get 
honour. No difference to him.” 

“Ay 1” exclaimed Guert, with a strong aspiration, such 
as escapes a man who feels strongly ; “ he is a devil incar- 
nate, when he once gets fairly on the scent of blood ! So 
you expect these French Injins will make an excursion in 
among the settlers, out here to the south-east of us ?” 

“ Go to nearest — don’t care where he be. Nearest your 
friend; won’t like that, s’pose'?” 

“ You are right enough, Onondago, in saying that. I 
shall not like it, nor will my companions, here, like it ; and 
the first thing you will have to do, will be to guide us, 
straight as the bird flies, to the Ravensnest ; the picketed 
house, you know, where we have left our sweethearts.” 

Susquesus understood all that was said, without any diffi- 
culty ; in proof of which, he smiled at this allusion to the 
precious character of the inmates of the house Guert told 
him to seek. 

“ Squaw pretty ’nough,” he answered, complacently. 
“ No wonder young man like him. But, can’t go there, 
now. First find friends measure land. All Injin land, 
once !” 

This last remark was made in a way I did not like ; for 
the idea seemed to cross the Onondago’s brain so suddenly, 
as to draw from him this brief assertion in pure bitterness 
of spirit. 

“ I should be very sorry if it had not been, Susquesus,’ 


364 


SATAN STOE. 


I observed, myself, “since the title is all the better for its 
having been so, as our Indian deed will show. You know, 
of course, that my father, and his friend, Col. Follock, 
bought this land of the Mohawks, and paid them their own 
price for it.” 

“ Red-man nebber measure land so. He p’int with finger, 
break bush down, and say, 4 there, take from that water to 
that water.’ ” 

“All very true, my friend ; but, as that sort of measure- 
ment will not answer to keep farms separate, we are obliged 
to survey the whole off into lots of smaller size. The Mo- 
hawks first gave my father and his friend, as much land as 
they could walk round in two suns, allowing them the night 
to rest in.” 

“ That good deed!” exclaimed the Indian, with strong 
emphasis. “ Leg can’t cheat — pen great rogue.” 

“ Well, we have the benefit of both grants ; for the pro- 
prietors actually walked round the estate, a party of Indians 
accompanying them, to see that all was fair. After that, 
the chiefs signed a deed in writing, that there might be no 
mistake, and then we got the King’s grant.” 

“ Who give King land, at all ? — All land here red-man 
land ; who give him to king?” 

“ Who made the Delawares women ? — The warriors of 
he Six nations, was it not, Susquesus ?” 

“ Yes — my people help. Six Nation great warrior, and 
put petticoat on Delawares, so they can’t go on war-path 
any more. What that to do with King’s land ?” 

“ Why, the King’s warriors, you know, my friend, have 
taken possession of this country, just as the Six Nations 
took possession of the Delawares, before they made them 
women.” 

“ What become of King’s warrior, now ?” demanded the 
Indian, quick as lightning. “ Where he run away to ? 
Where land Ticonderoga, now ? Whose land t’other end 
lake, now?” 

“ Why, the King’s troops have certainly met with a dis- 
aster ; and, for the present, their rights are weakened, it 
must be admitted. But, another day may see all this 
changed, and the King will get his land again. You will 
remember, he has not sold Ticonderoga to the French, as 


S AT AN STOE . 


365 


the Mohawks sold Mooseridge to us ; and that, you must 
admit, makes a great difference. A bargain is a bargain, 
Onondago.” 

“ Yes, bargain, bargain — that good. Good for red-man, 
good for pale-face — no difference — what Mohawk sell, he 
no take back, but let pale-face keep — but how come Mo- 
hawk and King sell, too?” Bot’ own land, eh?” 

This was rather a puzzling question to answer to an In- 
dian. We white people can very well understand that a 
human government, which professes, on the principles re- 
cognised by civilized nations, to have jurisdiction over cer- 
tain extensive territories that lie in the virgin forest, and 
which are used only, and that occasionally, by certain sa- 
vage tribes as hunting-grounds, should deem it right to 
satisfy those tribes, by purchase, before they parcelled out 
their lands for the purposes of civilized life ; but, it would 
not be so easy to make an unsophisticated mind understand 
that there could be two owners to the same property. The 
transaction is simple enough to us, and it tells in favour of 
our habits, for we have the power to grant these lands with- 
out ‘ extinguishing the Indian title , 5 as it is termed ; but it 
presents difficulties to the understandings of those who are 
not accustomed to see society surrounded by the multifarious 
interests of civilization. In point of fact, the Indian pur- 
chases give no other title, under our laws, than the right to 
sue out, in council, a claim to acquire by the grant of the 
crown ; paying to the latter such a consideration as in 
its wisdom it shall see fit to demand. Still, it was necessary 
to make some answer to the Onondago’s question, lest he 
might carry away the mistaken notion that we did not justly 
own our possessions. 

“ Suppose you find a rifle to your fancy, Susquesus,” I 
said, after reflecting a moment on the subject, “ and you find 
two Indians who both claim to own it ; now, if you pay each 
warrior his price, is your right to the title any the worse for 
having done so ? Is it not rather better ?” 

The Indian was struck with this reply, which suited the 
character of his mind. Thrusting out his hand, he received 
mine, and shook it cordially, as much as to say he was 
satisfied. Having disposed of this episode thus satisfactorily, 
31 * 


366 


S AT ANSTOE. 


we turned to the more interesting subject of our immediate 

movements. 

“ It would seem that the Onondago expects the French 
Indians will now strike at the settlements,” I remarked to 
my companions, “ and, that our friends at Ravensnest may 
need our aid ; but, at the same time, he thinks we should 
first return to Mooseridge, and join the surveyors. Which 
mode of proceeding strikes you as the best, my friends ?” 

“ Let us first hear the Injin’s reasons for going after the 
surveyors,” answered Guert. “ If he has a sufficient reason 
for his plan, I am ready to follow it.” 

“ Surveyor got scalp, as well as squaw,” said Susquesus, 
in his brief, meaning manner. 

“ That must settle the point !” exclaimed Guert. “ I un- 
derstand it all, now. The Onondago thinks the Mooseridge 
party may be cut off, as being alone and unsupported, and 
that we ought to apprise them of this danger.” 

“All perfectly just,” I replied, “ and it is what they, being 
our own people, have a right to expect from us. Still, 
Guert, I should think those surveyors might be safe where 
they are, in the bosom of the forest, for a year to come. 
Their business there cannot be known, and who is then to 
betray them?” 

“See,” said Susquesus, earnestly. “ Kill deer, and leave 
him in the wood. Won’t raven find carcass ?” 

“ That may be true enough ; but a raven has an instinct, 
given him by nature, to furnish him with food. He flies 
high in the air, moreover, and can see farther than an In 
dian.” 

“ Nuttin’ see farther than Injin J Red-man fly high, too. 
See from salt lake to sweet walfer Know ebbery t’ing in 
wood. Tell him nuttin’ he don’t know.” 

“You do not suppose, Susquesus, thafc the Huron warriors 
could find our surveyors, at Mooseridge?” 

“Why, no find him? Find moose ; why no find ridge, 
too? Find Mooseridge, sartain ; find land-measurer.” 

“ On the whole, Corny,” Guert remarked, after musing a 
little, “ we may do well to follow the Injin’s adv*ce. I have 
heard of so many misfortunes that have befallec people in 
the bush, from having despised Indian counsels, that I own 
to a little superstition on the subject. Just look a* what 


S AT ANSTOE. 


367 


happened yesterday ! Had red-skin opinions been taken, 
Abercrombie might now have been a conqueror, instead of 
a miserable, beaten man.” 

Susquesus raised a finger, and his dark countenance be- 
came illumined by an expression that was more eloquent 
even than his tongue. 

“ Why no open ear to red-man !” he asked, with dignity. 
“ Some bird sing a song that good — some sing bad song — 
but all bird know his own song. Mohawk warrior use to 
wood, and follow a crooked war-path, when he meet much 
enemy. Great Yengeese chief think his warrior have two 
life, that he put him before cannon and rifle, to stand up and 
be shot. No Injin do so foolish — no — never !” 

As this was too true to be controverted, the matter was 
not discussed ; but, having determined among ourselves to 
let the Onondago take us back on the path by which we had 
come, we announced our readiness to start as soon as it 
might suit his convenience. Being sufficiently rested, Sus- 
quesus, who did everything on system, manifesting neither 
impatience nor laziness, arose and quietly led the way. 
Our course was just the reverse of that on which we had 
travelled when we left Mooseridge ; and I did not fail to 
observe that, so accurate was the knowledge of our guide, 
we passed many of the same objects as we had previously 
gone near. There was nothing like a track, with the excep- 
tion of occasional foot-prints left by ourselves ; but it was 
evident the Onondago paid not the least attention to these, 
possessing other and more accessible clues to his course. 

Guert marched next to the Indian, and I was third in the 
line. How often, that busy day, did I gaze at my file-leader, 
in admiration of his figure and mien ! Nature appeared to 
have intended him for a soldier. Although so powerful, his 
frame was agile — a particular in which he differed from 
Dirck ; who, although so young, already gave symptoms 
of heaviness, at no distant day. Then Guert’s carriage was 
as fine as his form. The head was held erect ; the eye was 
intrepid in its glance ; and the tread elastic, though so firm. 
To the last hour, on that long and weary march, Guert 
leaped logs, sprang across hollows in the ground, and other- 
wise manifested that his iron sinews and hardened muscles 
still retained all their powers. As he moved in my front, I 


3G8 


SATANSTOE. 


saw, for the first time, that some of the fringe of his hunt- 
ing-shirt had been cut away in the fight, and that a musket- 
ball had passed directly through his cap. I afterwards 
ascertained that Guert was aware of these escapes, but his 
nature was so manly he did not think of mentioning them. 

We made a single bfilt, as before, to dine ; but little was 
said, at this meal, and no change in our plan was proposed. 
This was the point where we ought to have diverged from 
the former course, did we intend to proceed first to Ravens- 
nest ; but, though all knew it, nothing was said on the sub- 
ject. 

“ We shall carry unwelcome tidings to Mr. Traverse, 
and his men,” Guert observed, a minute or two before our 
halt was up ; “ for, I take it for granted, the news cannot 
have gone ahead of ws.” 

“We first,” answered the Onondago. “Too soon for 
Huron, yet. T’ink so — nobody know.” 

“ I wish, Corny,” pursued the Albanian, “ we had thought 
of saying a word to Doortje about this accursed expedition. 
There is no use in a man’s being above his business ; and 
he who puts himself in the way of fortune, might profit by 
now and then consulting a fortune-teller.” 

“ Had we done so, and had all that has happened been 
foretold, do you suppose it would have made any change in 
the result?” 

“ Perhaps not, since we should have been the persons to 
relate what we had heard. But, Abercrombie, himself, need 
have had no scruples about visiting that remarkable old wo- 
man. She ’s a wonderful creature, Corny, as we must allow, 
and a prudent general would not fail to respect what she told 
him. It is a thousand pities that either the Commander-In- 
Chief, or the Adjutant-General, had not paid Doortje a visit 
before they left Albany. My Lord Howe’s valuable lifo 
might then have been saved.” 

“ In what way, Guert ? I am at a loss to see in what 
manner any good could come of it.” 

“In what manner? — Why, in the plainest possible. 
Now, suppose Doortje had foretold this defeat ; it is clear, 
Abercrombie, if he put any faith in the old woman, would 
sot have made the attack.” 

“And thus defeat the defeat. Do you not see, Guert, that 


SA TANS TOE. 


369 

the soothsayer can, at the best, but foretell what is to hap. 
pen, and that which must come will. It would be an easy 
matter for any of us to get great reputations for fortune- 
telling, if all we had to do was to predict misfortunes, in 
order that our friends might avoid them. As nothing would 
ever happen, in consequence of the precautions taken to 
avert the evils, a name would be easily and cheaply main- 
tained.” 

“ By St. Nicholas ! Corny, I never thought of that ! But, 
you have been college-taught ; and a thousand things are 
picked up at colleges, that one never dreams of at an acade- 
my. I see reason, every day, to lament my idleness when 
a boy ; and fortunate shall I be, if I do not lament it all my 
life.” 

Poor Guert ! He was always so humble, when the sub- 
ject of education arose, however accidentally or unintention- 
ally on my part, that it was never commented on, that it did 
not give me pain, exciting a wish to avoid it. As the time 
for the halt was now up, it was easy to terminate the present 
discussion, by declaring as much, and proceeding on our 
way. 

We had a hard afternoon’s walk of it, though neither of 
the five manifested the least disposition to give in. As for 
Susquesus, to me, he never seemed to know either fatigue 
or hunger. He was doubtless acquainted with both; but 
his habits of self-command were so severe, as to enable him 
completely to conceal his sufferings in this, as well as in 
most other respects. 

The sun was near setting when we entered within the 
limits of the Mooseridge estate. We ascertained this fact 
by passing the line-trees, some of which had figures cut into 
their barks, to denote the numbers of the great subdivisions 
of the property. Guert pointed out these marks ; being far 
more accustomed to the woods than either Dirck or myself. 
Aided by such guides, we had no difficulty in making a suf 
ficiently straight course to the hut. 

Susquesus thought a little caution necessary, as we drew 
near to the end of our journey. Causing us to remain 
behind, he advanced in front, himself, to reconnoitre. A 
signal, however, soon took us to the place where he stood, 
when we discovered the hut iust as we had left it, but no one 


370 


S AT ANSTOE. 


near it. This might be the result of mere accident, the 
surveying party frequently ‘ ’camping out,’ in preference to 
making a long march after a fatiguing day’s work ; and 
Pete would be very likely to prefer going to join these men, 
to remaining alone in the hut. We advanced to the build- 
ing, therefore, with confidence. On reaching it, we found 
the place empty, as had been anticipated, though with every 
sign about it of its tenants having left it but a short time 
previously ; that morning, at the furthest. 

Jaap set about preparing a supper out of the regular sup- 
plies of the party ; all of which were found in their places, 
and in abundance. On inquiry of the fellow, I ascertained 
it was his opinion Mr. Traverse had gone off that very day, 
most probably to some distant portion of the Patent, taking 
Pete with him, as everything was covered up and put away 
with that sort of care that denotes an absence of some little 
time. The Indian heard the negro’s remark, to this effect, 
and, tossing his head significantly, he said — 

“ No need guess — go see — light enough — plenty time. 
Injin soon tell.” 

He quitted the hut, on the spot, and immediately set about 
this self-assigned duty. 


CHAPTEE XXV. 

“ Thou tremblest ; and the whiteness in thy cheek 
Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand.” 

Shakspeahe. 

Curiosity induced me to follow the Indian, in order to 
watch his movements. Susquesus proceeded a short dis- 
tance from the hut, quitting the knoll entirely, until he 
reached lower land, where a foot-print would be most likely 
to be visible, when he commenced a slow circuit of the place, 
with eyes fastened on the earth, as the nose of the hound 
follows the scent. I was so much interested in the Onon« 


SATAN STOE. 371 

dago’s manner, as to join him, falling-in in his rear, in 
order not to interfere with his object. 

Of foot-marks there were plenty, more particularly on the 
low, moist ground, where we were; but they all appeared, 
to me, to have no interest with the Indian. Most of our 
party wore moccasins ; and it was not easy to see how, 
under such circumstances, and amid such a maze of impres- 
sions, it could be possible for any one to distinguish a hostile 
from a friendly trail. That Susquesus thought the thing 
might be done, however, was very evident by his persever- 
ance, and his earnestness. 

At first, my companion met with no success, or with no- 
thing that he fancied success ; but, after making half the 
circuit of the hut, keeping always a hundred yards distant 
from it, he suddenly stopped ; stooped quite to the earth ; then 
arose, and, sticking a broken knot into the ground, as a 
mark, he signed to me to keep a little on one side, while he 
turned at right angles to his former course, and moved in- 
wards towards our dwelling. I followed slowly, watching 
ais movements, step by step. 

In this manner we reached the hut, deviating from a 
direct line, in order to do so. At the hut, itself, Susquesus 
made a long and minute examination ; but even I could see, 
that the marks here were so numerous, as to baffle even 
him. After finishing his search at this point, the Indian 
turned, and went back to the place where he had stuck the 
knot in the ground. In doing this, however, he followed 
his own trail, returning by precisely the same deviating 
course as that by which he had come. This, alone, would 
have satisfied me that he saw more than I did ; for, to own 
the truth, I could not have done the same thing. 

When we reached the knot, Susquesus followed that (to 
me invisible) trail outside of the circle, leading off into the 
forest in a direct line from the hut and spring. I continued 
near him, although neither had spoken during the whole of 
ihis examination, which had now lasted quite half an hour. 
A.s it was getting dark, however, and Jaap showed the sig- 
nal that our supper was ready, I thought it might be well, 
at length, to break the silence. 

“ What do you make of all this, Trackless?” I inquired. 
“ Do you find any signs of a trail ?” 


372 


S AT ANSTOE. 


“Good trail” — Susquesus answered; “new trail, too. 
Look like Huron !” 

This was startling intelligence, certainly ; yet, much as I 
was disposed to defer to my companion’s intelligence in 
such matters, in general, I thought he must be mistaken in 
his fact. In the first place, though I had seen many foot- 
prints near the hut, and along the low land on which the 
Indian made his circuit, I could see none where we then 
were. I mentioned this to the Indian, and desired "him tc 
show me, particularly, one of the signs which had led him 
to his conclusion. 

“ See,” said Susquesus, stooping so low as to place a 
finger on the dead leaves that ever make a sort of carpet to 
the forest, “ here been moccasin — that heel ; this toe.” 

Aided, in this manner, I could discover a faint foot-print, 
which might, by aid of the imagination, be thus read ; though 
the very slight impression that was to be traced, might 
almost as well be supposed anything else, as it seemed to 
me. 

“ 1 see what you mean, Susquesus ; and, I allow, it may 
be a foot-print,” I answered ; “ but then it may also have 
been left by anything else, which has touched the ground 
just at that spot. It may have been made by a falling 
branch of a tree.” 

“ Where branch?” asked the Indian, quick as lightning. 

“ Sure enough ; that is more than I can tell you. But I 
cannot suppose that a Huron foot-print, without more evidence 
than you now give.” 

“ What you call that ? — this — that — t’other ?” added tho 
Indian, stepping quickly back, and pointing to four other 
similar, but very faint impressions on the leaves ; “ no see 
him, eh? — Just leg apart, too !” 

This was true enough ; and now my attention was thus 
directed, and my senses were thus aided, I confess I did dis- 
cover certain proofs of footsteps, that would, otherwise, have 
baffled my most serious search. 

“ I can see what you mean, Susquesus,” I said, “ and will 
allow that this line of impressions, or marks, does make 
them look more like footsteps. At any rate, most of our 
party wear moccasins as well as the red-men, and how do 


SATANSTOE. 


373 


you know that some of the surveyors have not passed this 
way ?” 

“ Surveyor no make such mark. Toe turn in.” 

This was true, too. But it did not follow that a foot-print 
was a Huron’s, merely because it was Indian. Then, where 
were the enemy’s warriors to come from, in so short a time 
as had intervened between the late battle and the present 
moment? There was little question all the forces of the 
French, pale-face and red-man, had been collected at Ticon- 
deroga to meet the English ; and the distance was so great 
as almost to render it impossible for a party to reach this 
spot so soon, coming from the vicinity of the fortress after 
the occurrence of the late events. Did not the lake inter- 
pose an obstacle, I might have inferred that parties of skir- 
mishers would be thrown on the flanks of the advancing 
army, thus bringing foes within a lessened distance of us ; 
but, there was the lake, aflording a safe approach for more 
than thirty miles, and rendering the employment of any 
such skirmishers useless. All this occurred to me at the 
moment, and I mentioned it to my companion as an argu- 
ment against his own supposition. 

“No true,” answered Susquesus, shaking his head. “ That 
trail — he Huron trail, too. Don’t know red-man to say so.” 

“ But red-men are human as well as pale-faces. It must 
be seventy miles from this spot to the foot of Lake George, 
and your conjecture would make it necessary that a party 
should have travelled that distance in less than twenty-four 
hours, and be here some time before us.” 

“ We no travel him, eh?” 

“ I grant you that, Trackless ; but we came a long bit of 
the road in a canoe, each and all of us sleeping, and resting 
ourselves, in turns. These Hurons must have come the 
whole distance by land.” 

“ No so. Huron paddle canoe well as Onondago. Lake 
there — canoe plenty. Why not come ?” 

“ Do you suppose, Trackless, that any of the French 
Indians would venture on the lake while it was covered with 
our boats, as was the case last night?” 

“ What ‘ our boat’ good for, eh ? Carry wounded war- 
rior — carry runaway warrior — what he care ? T’ink Huron 
32 


374 


S ATANSTOE. 


>fraid of boat ? Boat got eye, eh ? Boat see ; boat hear ; 
boat shoot, eh ?” 

“ Perhaps not ; but those who were in the boats can dc 
all this, and would be apt, at least, to speak to a strange 
canoe.” 

“ Boat speak my canoe, eh ? Onondago canoe, strange 
canoe, too.” 

All this was clear .enough, when I began to reflect on it. 
It was certainly possible for a canoe with two or three 
paddles, to go the whole length of the lake in much less 
time than we had employed in going two-thirds of the dis- 
tance ; and a party landing in the vicinity of William-Henry, 
could certainly have reached the spot where we then were, 
several hours sooner than we had reached it ourselves. Still, 
there existed all the other improbabilities on my side of the 
question. It was improbable that a party should have pro- 
ceeded in precisely this manner; it was still more impro- 
bable that such a party, coming on a war-path, from a dis- 
tant part of the country, should know exactly where to find 
our hut. After a moment’s pause, and while we both slowly 
proceeded to join our companion, I suggested these objections 
to the Onondago. 

“ Don’t know Injin,” answered the other, betraying more 
earnestness of manner than was usual with him, when he 
condescended to discuss any of the usages of the tribes, with 
a pale-face. “He fight first; then he want scalp. Ever 
see dead horse in wood — well, no crow there, eh? Plenty 
crow, isn’t he? Just so, Injin. Wounded soldier carry off, 
and Injin watch in wood, behind army, to get scalp. Scalp 
good, after battle. Wapt him, very much. Wood full of 
Huron, along path to Albany. Yengeese down in heart ; 
Huron up. Scalp so good, t’ink of nuttin’ else.” 

By this time we had reached the hut, where I found Guert 
and Dirck already at their supper. I will own that my 
appetite was not as good as it might have been, but for the 
Onondago’s conjectures and discoveries ; though I took a 
seat, and began to eat with my friends. While at the meal, 
I communicated to my companions all that had passed, par- 
ticularly asking of Guert, who had a respectable knowledge 
of the bush, what he thought of the probabilities of the case. 

“ If hostile red-skins have really been here, lately,” the 


SATANSTOE. 


375 


Albanian answered, “ they have been thoroughly cunning 
devils ; for not an article in or about the hut has been dis- 
turbed. I had an eye to that myself, the moment we ar- 
rived ; for I have thought it far from unlikely that the Hu- 
rons would be out, on the road between William-Henry 
and the settlements, trying to get scalps from the parties 
that would be likely to be sent to the rear with wounded 
officers.” 

“ In which case our friend Bulstrode might be in dan- 
ger?” 

‘ He must take his chance, like all of us. But, he will 
probably be carried to Ravensnest, as the nearest nest for 
him to nestle in. I don’t half like this trail, however, Corny ; 
it is seldom a red-skin of the Onondago’s character, makes 
a mistake in such a matter !” 

“ It is too late, now, to do anything to-night,” Dirck ob- 
served. “ Besides, I don’t think any great calamity is likely 
to befall any of us, or Doortje would have dropped some 
hint about it. These fortune-tellers seldom let anything 
serious pass without a notice of some sort or other. You 
see, Corny, we went through all this business at Ty, with- 
out a scratch, which is so much in favour of the old wo- 
man’s being right.” 

Poor Dirck ! that prediction had made a deep impression 
on his character, and on his future life. A man’s faith must 
be strong, to fancy that a negative of this nature could carry 
with it any of the force of a positive, affirmative prediction. 
Nevertheless, Dirck had spoken the truth, in one respect. 
It was too late to do anything that night, and it only re 
mained*to prepare to take our rest as securely as possible. 

We consulted on the subject, calling on the Indian to aid 
us. After talking the matter over, it was determined to re- 
main where we were, securing the door, and bringing every- 
body within the building; for the negroes and the Indians 
had been much in the habit of sleeping about, under brush 
covers that they had erected for themselves. It was thought 
that, having once visited the hut, and finding it empty, the 
enemy, if enemy there were, would not be very likely to 
return to it immediately, and that we might consider our- 
selves as comparatively safe, from that circumstance alone. 
Then, there were all the chances that the trail might have 


376 


SATAN STOE. 


been left by friendly, instead of hostile Indians, although 
Susquesus shook his head in the negative, whenever this 
was mentioned. At all events, we had but a choice of three 
expedients — to abandon the Patent, and seek safety in flight ; 
to 4 ’camp out or to shut ourselves up in our fortress. Of 
the first, no one thought for a moment ; and of the two 
others, we decided on the last, as far the most comfortable, 
and, on the whole, as the safest. 

An hour after we had come to this determination, I ques- 
tion if either of the five knew anything about it. I never 
slept more profoundly in my life, and my companions sub- 
sequently gave the same account of their several conditions. 
Fatigue, and youth, and health, gave us all refreshing sleep ; 
and, as we lay down at nine, two o’clock came after so 
much time totally lost in the way of consciousness. I say 
two o’clock ; for my watch told me that was just the hour, 
when the Indian awoke me, by shaking my shoulder. One 
gets the habits of watchfulness in the woods, and I was on 
my feet in an instant. 

Dark as it was, for it was deep night, I could distinguish 
that Susquesus was alone stirring, and that he had unbarred 
the door of our cabin. Indeed, he passed through that open 
space, into the air of the forest, the moment he perceived I 
was conscious of what I was about. Without pausing to 
reflect, I followed, and soon stood at his side, some fifteen 
or twenty feet from the hut. 

44 This good place to hear,” said the Indian, in a low sup- 
pressed tone. 44 Now, open ear.” 

What a scene was that, which now presented itself to my 
senses ! I can see it, at this distance of time, after years of 
peaceful happiness, and years of toil and adventure. The 
morning, or it might be better to say the night, was not very 
dark in itself; but the gloom of the woods being added to 
the obscurity of the hour, it lent an intensity of blackness 
to the trunks of the trees, that gave to each a funereal and 
solemn aspect. It was impossible to see for any distance, 
and the objects that were visible were only those that were 
nearest at hand. Notwithstanding, one might imagine the 
canopied space beneath the tops of the trees, and fancy it, 
in the majesty of its gloomy vastness. Of sounds there were 
literally none, when the Indian first bade me listen. The 


S AT ANSTOE. 


377 


stillness was so profound, that I thought I heard the sighing 
of the night air among the upper branches of the loftier 
trees. This might have been mere imagination ; neverthe- 
less, all above the summits of the giant oaks, maples and 
pines, formed a sort of upper world as regarded us ; a world 
with which we had little communication, during our sojourn 
in the woods below. The raven, and the eagle, and the 
hawk, sailed in that region, above the clouds of leaves be- 
neath them, and occasionally stooped, perhaps, to strike 
their quarry ; but, to all else, it was inaccessible, and to a 
degree invisible. 

But, my present concern is with the world I was in ; and, 
what a world it was ! Solemn, silent, dark, vast and myste- 
rious. I listened in vain, to catch the footstep of some busy 
squirrel, for the forest was alive with the smaller animals, 
by night quite as much as by day ; but everything, at that 
moment, seemed stilled to the silence of death. 

“ I can hear nothing, Trackless,” I whispered — “ Why 
are you out here ?” 

“ You hear, soon — wake me up, and I hear twice. Soon 
come ag’in.” 

It did soon come again. It was a human cry, escaping 
from human lips in their agony ! I heard it once only ; but, 
should I live to be a hundred, it would not be forgotten. I 
often hear it in my sleep, and twenty times have I awoke 
since, fancying that agonizing call was in my ears. It was 
long, loud, piercing, and the word * help’ was as distinct as 
tongue could make it. 

“ Great God !” I exclaimed — “ some one is set upon, and 
calls for aid in his extremity. Let us arouse our friends, 
and go to his assistance. I cannot remain here, Susquesus, 
with such a cry in my ears.” 

“ Best go, t’ink too,” answered the Onondago. “ No need 
call, though ; two better than four. Stop minute.” 

I did remain stationary that brief space, listening with 
agonized uncertainty, while the Indian entered the hut, and 
returned, bringing out his rifle and my own. Arming our 
selves, and shutting the door of the cabin, to exclude the 
night-air, at least, Susquesus led off, with his noiseless step, 
in" a south-west direction, or that in which we had heard 
the sound. 


32 * 


378 


SATANSTOE. 


Our march was too swift and earnest to admit of dis- 
course. The Onondago had admonished me to make as 
little noise as possible ; and, between the anxiety I felt, and 
the care taken to comply, there was, indeed, but little op- 
portunity for conversing. My feelings were wrought up to 
a high pitch ; but my confidence in my companion being 
great, I followed in his footsteps, as diligently as my skill 
would allow. Susquesus rather trod on air than walked ; 
yet I kept close at his heels, until we had gone, as I should 
think, fully half a mile in the direction from which that 
awful cry had come. Here Susquesus halted, saying to me, 
in a low voice — 

“ No far from here — best stop.” 

I submitted, in all things, to the directions of my Indian 
guide. The latter had selected the dark shadows of two or 
three young pines for our cover, where, by getting within 
their low branches, we were completely concealed from any 
eye that was distant from us eight or ten feet. No sooner 
were we thus posted, than the Onondago pointed to the trunk 
of a fallen tree, and we took our seats silently on it. I ob- 
served that my companion kept his thumb on the cock of 
his rifle, while his fore-finger was passed around the trigger. 
It is scarcely necessary to say that I observed the same 
precaution. 

“ This good,” said Susquesus, in a voice so low and soft 
that it could not attract more attention than a whisper ; 
“ this very good — hear him ag’in, soon ; then know.” 

A stifled groan was heard, and that almost as soon as my 
companion ceased to speak. I felt my blood curdle at these 
frightful evidences of human suffering; and an impulse of 
humanity caused me’to move, as if about to rise. The hand 
of Trackless checked the imprudence. 

“ No good,” he said, sternly. “ Sit still. Warrior know 
how to sit still.” 

“ But, Heavenly Providence ! There is some one in 
agony, quite near us, man. Did you not hear a groan, 
Trackless ?” 

“To be sure, hear him. — What of that? Pain make 
groan come, alway, from pale-face.” 

“ You think, then, it is a white-man who suffers? if so, it 


SATANSTOE. 379 

must be one of our party, as there is no one else near us. 
If I hear it again, I must go to his relief, Onondago.” 

“ Why you behave like squaw? What of little groan? 
Sartain, he pale-face ; Injin never groan on war-path. Why 
he groan, you t’ink 1 Cause Huron meet him. That reason 
he groan. You groan, too, no sit still. Injin know time to 
shoot — know time not to shoot.” 

I had every disposition to call aloud, to inquire who 
needed succour ; yet the admonitions of my companion, 
aided as they were by the gloomy mysteries of that vast 
forest, in the hour of deepest night, enabled me to command 
the impulse. Three times, notwithstanding, was that groan 
repeated ; and, as it appeared to me, each time more and 
more faintly. I thought, too, when all was still in the 
forest — when we sat ourselves in breathless expectation of 
what might next reach our ears — attentive to each sighing 
of the night-air, and distrustful even of the rustling leaf — 
that the last groan of all, though certainly the faintest of 
any we had heard, was much the nearest. Once, indeed, I 
heard, or fancied I heard, the word ‘ water,’ murmured in a 
low, smothered tone, almost in my ear. I thought, too, I 
knew the voice ; that it was familiar to me ; though I could 
not decide, in the state of my feelings, exactly to whom it 
belonged. 

In this manner we passed what, to me, were two of the 
most painful hours of my life, waiting the slow return of 
light. My own impatience was nearly ungovernable; 
though the Indian sat, the whole of that time, seemingly as 
insensible as the log which formed his seat, and almost as 
motionless. At length this intensely anxious, and even 
physically painful watch, drew near its end. Signs of day 
gleamed through the canopy of leaves, and the rays of dull 
light appeared to struggle downward, rendering objects 
dimly discernible. 

It was not long ere we could ascertain that we had sc 
completely covered ourselves, as to be in a position where 
the branches of the pines completely shut out the view of 
objects beyond. This was favourable to reconnoitring, 
however, previously to quitting our concealment, and enabled 
us to have some care of ourselves while attending to the 
duties of humanity. 


380 


S AT ANSTOE . 


Susquesus used the greatest caution in looking around 
before he left the cover. I was close at his side, peeping 
through such openings as offered ; for my curiosity was so 
intense, that I almost forgot the causes for apprhension. It 
was not long before I heard the familiar Indian interjection, 
“ hugh !” from my companion ; a proof that something had 
caught his eye, of a more than ordinarily exciting character. 
He pointed in the way I was to look, and there, indeed, I 
beheld one of those frightful instances of barbarous cruelty, 
that the usages of savage warfare have sanctioned, as far 
back as our histories extend, among the forest warriors of 
this continent. The tops of two saplings had been brought 
down near each other, by main force, the victim’s hands 
attached firmly to upper branches of each, and the trees per- 
mitted to fly back to their natural positions, or as near them 
as the revolting means of junction would allow. I could 
scarce believe my senses, when my sight first revealed the 
truth. But there hung the victim, suspended by his arms, 
at an elevation of at least ten or fifteen feet from the earth. 
I confess I sincerely hoped he was dead, and the motionless 
attitude of the body gave me reason to think it might be so. 
Still, the cries for “ help,” uttered wildly, hopelessly, in the 
midst of a vast and vacant forest, the groans extorted by 
suffering, must have been his. He had probably been thus 
suspended and abandoned, while alive ! 

Even the Onondago could not restrain me, after I fully 
saw and understood the nature of the cruelty which had 
been exercised on the miserable victim who was thus sus- 
pended directly before my eyes, and I broke out of the cover, 
ready, I am willing to confess, to pull trigger on the first 
hostile red-man I saw. Fortunately for myself, most pro- 
bably, the place had long been deserted. As the back of 
the sufferer was towards me, I could not tell who he was ; 
but his dress was coarse, and of the description that belongs 
to the lowest class. Blood had flowed freely from his head, 
and I made no doubt he had been scalped; though the 
height at which he hung, and the manner in which his head 
had fallen forward upon his breast, prevented me from as- 
certaining the fact at once, by the aid of sight. Thus much 
did I perceive, however, ere the Indian joined me. 


S AT ANSTOE. 


381 


“ See !” said Susquesus, whose quick eye never let any- 
thing escape it long, “ told you so ; Huron been here.” 

As this was said, the Indian pointed significantly at the 
naked skin, which was visible between the heavy, coarse 
shoes of the victim, and the trowsers he wore, when I dis- 
covered it was black. Moving quickly in front, so as to get 
a view of the face, I recognised the distorted features of 
Petrus, or Pete, Guert Ten Eyck’s negro. This man had 
been left with the surveyors, it will be remembered, and he 
had either fallen into the hands of his captors, while at the 
hut, engaged in his ordinary duties, or he had been met in 
the forest while going to, or coming from those he . served, 
and had thus been treated. We never ascertained the facts, 
which remain in doubt to this hour. 

“ Give me your tomahawk, Trackless,” I cried, as soon 
as horror would permit me to speak, “ that I may cut down 
this sapling, and liberate the unfortunate creature !” 

“ No good — better so,” answered the Indian. “ Bear — 
wolf can’t get him, now. Let black-skin hang — good as 
bury — no safe stay here long. Look round and count 
Huron, then go.” 

“ Look round and count the Hurons,” I thought to my- 
self; “and in what manner is this to be done?” By this 
time, however, it was sufficiently light to see foot-prints, if 
any there were, and the Onondago set about examining 
such traces of what had passed at that terrible spot, as 
might be intelligible to one of his experience. 

At the foot of a huge oak, that grew a few yards from 
the fatal saplings, we found the two wooden, covered pails, 
in which we knew Pete had been accustomed to carry food 
to Mr. Traverse and the chain-bearers. They were empty, 
but whether the provisions they unquestionably had con- 
tained fell to the share of those for whom they were intended, 
or to that of the captors, we never learned. No traces of 
bones, potato-skins, or other fragments were discovered; 
and, if the Hurons had seized the provisions, they doubtless 
transferred them to their own repositories, without stopping 
to eat. Susquesus detected proof that the victim had beer, 
seated at the foot of the oak, and that he had been seized at 
that spot. There were the marks of many feet there, and 
some proofs of a slight scuffle. Blood, too, was to be traced 


S AT ANSTOE. 


382 

on the leaves, from the foot of the oak, to the place where 
poor Pete was suspended ; a proof that he had been hurt, 
previously to being abandoned to his cruel fate. 

But the point of most interest with Trackless was to ascer- 
tain the number of our foes. This might be done, in some 
measure, according to his view of the matter, by means of 
the foot-prints. There was no want of such signs, the leaves 
being much disturbed in places, though after a short but 
anxious search, my companion thought it wisest to repair to 
the hut, lest those it contained might be surprised in their 
sleep. He gave me to understand that the enemy did not 
appear to be numerous at that spot, three or four at most, 
though it was quite possible, nay highly probable, that they 
had separated, and that their whole force was not present at 
this miserable scene. 

It was broad daylight when we came in sight of the hut 
again, and I perceived Jaap was up and busy with his pots 
and kettles near the spring. No one else was visible, and 
we inferred that Guert and Dirck were still on their pallets. 
We took a long and distrustful survey of the forest around 
the cabin, from the height where we stood, ere we ventured 
to approach it any nearer. Discovering no signs of danger, 
and the forest being quite clear of underbrush or cover of 
any sort, large trees excepted, for some distance from the 
hut, we then advanced without apprehension. This open 
character of the woods near our dwelling was felt to be a 
very favourable circumstance, rendering it impossible for an 
enemy to get very near us by day-light, without being seen. 
It was owing to the fact that we had used so much of the 
smaller timber, in our own operations, while the negroes 
had burned most of the underbrush for fuel. 

Sure enough, I found my two friends fast asleep, and 
certainly much exposed. When aroused and told all that 
had occurred to me and the Indian, their surprise was great, 
nor was their horror less. Jaap, who, missing us on rising, 
supposed we had gone in pursuit of game, had followed us 
into the hut, and heard my communications. His indigna- 
tion was great, at the idea of one of his own colour’s being 
thus treated, and I heard him vowing vengeance between 
his set teeth, in terms that were by no means measured. 

“ By St. Nicholas !” exclaimed Guert, who had now 


SAT ANSTOE. 


383 


finished dressing, and who accompanied me out into this 
open air, “ my poor fellow shall be revenged, if the rifle will 
do it ! Scalped, too, do you say, Corny ?” 

“ As far as we could ascertain, suspended as he was from 
the tree. But, scalped he must be, as an Indian never per- 
mits a dead captive to escape this mutilation.” 

“ And you have been out in the forest three hours, you 
tell me, Corny? — You and Trackless?” 

“ About that time, I should judge. The heart must have 
been of stone, that could resist those cries !” 

“ I do not blame you, Littlepage, though it would have 
been kinder, and wiser, had you taken your friends with 
you. We must stick together, in future, let what may 
happen. Poor Petrus ! I wonder Doortje should have 
hinted nothing of that nigger’s fate !” 

We then held a long consultation on the subject of our 
mode of proceeding, next. It is unnecessary to dwell on 
this conference, as its conclusions will be seen in the events 
of the narrative ; but it was brought to a close by a very 
sudden interruption, and that was the sound of an axe in the 
forest. The blows came in the direction of the scene of 
Pete’s murder, and we had collected our rifles, and were 
preparing to move towards the suspected point, when we 
saw Jaap staggering along, coming to the hut, beneath the 
load of his friend’s body. The fellow had stolen away, un- 
seen, on this pious duty, and had executed it with success. 
In a minute or two he reached the spring, and began to 
wash away the revolting remains of the massacre from the 
head of the Huron’s victim. 

We now ascertained that poor Pete had been badly cut 
by knives, as well as scalped, and suspended in the manner 
related. Both arms appeared to be dislocated, and the only 
relief to our feelings, was in the hope that an attempt to in- 
flict so much suffering must have soon defeated itself. Guert, 
in particular, expressed his hope that such was the case, 
though the awful sounds of the past night were still too fresh 
in my ears to enable me to believe all I could wish on that 
subject. A grave was dug, and we buried the body at once, 
rolling a large log or two on the spot, in order to prevent 
wild beasts from disinterring it. Jaap worked hard in the 
performance of these rites, and Guert Ten Eyck actual iy 


384 


SATANSTOE. 


repeated the Lord’s Prayer and the Creed over the grave, 
when the body was placed in it, with a fervour and earnest- 
ness that a little surprised me. 

“ Pie was but a nigger, Corny, it is true,” said the Alba- 
nian, a little apologetically perhaps, after all was over, “ but 
he was a very goot nigger, in the first place ; then, he had 
a soul, as well as a white man — Pete had his merits, as well 
as a Tominie, and I trust they will not be forgotten in the 
last great account. Pie was an excellent cook, as you must 
have seen, and I never knew a nigger that had more of the 
dog-like fidelity to his master. The fellow never got into 
a frolic without coming honestly to ask leave ; though, to be 
sure, I was not a hard master, in these particulars, on rea- 
sonable occasions.” 

We next ate our breakfasts, with as much appetite as we 
could. Shouldering our packs, and placing all around, and 
in the hut, as much as possible in the condition in which we 
had found the place, we then commenced our march, Sus- 
quesus leading, as usual. 

We went in quest of the surveyors, who were supposed 
to be in the south-east corner of the Patent, employed as 
usual, and ignorant of all that had passed. At first, we 
had thought of discharging our rifles, as signals to bring 
them* in ; but these signals might apprize our enemies, as 
well as our friends, of our presence, and the distance was 
too great, moreover, to render it probable the reports could 
be heard by those for whom alone they would be intended. 

The route we took was determined by our general know- 
ledge of the quarter of the Patent in which the surveyors 
ought now to be, as well as by the direction in which the 
body of Pete had been found. The poor fellow was cer- 
tainly either going to, or coming from the party, and being 
in constant communication with them, he doubtless knew 
where they were at work. Then the different trails of 
the surveyors were easily enough found by Trackless, and 
he told us that the most recent led off in the direction I have 
named. Towards the south-east, therefore, we held our 
way, marching, as before, in Indian file,* the Onondago 
leading, and the negro bringing up the rear. 


SAT ANSTOE. 


385 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

“ ’Tis too horrible ! 

The weariest and most loathed worldly life 
That age, ache, penury, and imprisonment 
Can lay on nature, is a paradise, 

To what we fear of death.” 

Measure for Measure. 

We were not long in reaching the point of the Patent in 
which the surveyors had been at work, after which we could 
have but little difficulty in finding their present actual posi- 
tion. I' he marked trees were guides that told the whole 
story of their labours. For an hour and a half, however, 
we moved rapidly forward, Susquesus on the lead, silent, 
earnest, watchful, and I fear I must add, revengeful. Not 
a syllable had been uttered during the whole of that time, 
though our senses were keenly on the alert ; and we avoided 
everything like a cover that might conceal an ambush. 
Suddenly the Indian halted ; at the next instant he was 
behind a tree. Each of us imitated him, quick as thought, 
for this was our previous training in the event of encounter- 
ing an enemy; and we all well knew the importance of a 
cover in forest warfare. Still, no foe could be seen. After 
examining around us in every direction, for a minute or two, 
and finding the woods vacant and silent as ever, Guert and 
I quitted our own trees, and joined the Trackless, at the 
foot of his own huge pine. 

“ Why this, Susquesus?” demanded the Albanian, sharply; 
for he began to suspect a little acting, got up to magnify the 
Indian’s usefulness ; “ here is neither pale-face nor red-skin. 
Have done with this folly, and let us go forward.” 

“ No good — warrior been here ; p’rhaps gone, p’rhaps 
no ; soon see. Open eye, and look.” 

As a gesture accompanied this speech, we did look again, 
and this time in the right direction. At the distance of a 
hundred yards from us was a chestnut, that might be seen 
from its roots to its branches. On the ground, partly con- 
cealed by the tree, and partly exposed, was the leg of a man, 
33 


386 


SATANSTOE. 


placed as the limb would be apt to lie, on the supposition 
that its owner lay on his back, asleep. It showed a moc- 
casin, and the usual legging of an Indian ; but the thigh, 
and all the rest of the frame, was concealed. The quick 
eye of the Onondago had caught this small object, even at 
that distance, comprehended it at a glance, when he instantly 
sought a cover, as described. Guert and I had some diffi- 
culty at first, even after it was pointed out to us, in recog- 
nising this object ; but it soon became distinct and intelligible. 

“Is that a red-skin’s leg?” asked Guert, dropping the 
muzzle of his rifle, as if about to try his skill on it. 

“ Don’t know,” answered the Indian ; “ got leggin, got 
moccasin ; can’t see colour. Look most pale-face ; leg big.” 

What there was to enable one, at that distance, to distin- 
guish between the leg of a white man and the leg of an 
Indian, at first greatly exceeded our means of conjecturing; 
but the Onondago explained it, when asked, in his own 
usual, sententious manner, by saying: 

“ Toe turn out — Injin turn in — no like, at all. Pale-face 
big; Injin no very big.” 

The first was true enough in walking, and it did seem 
probable that the difference might exist in sleep. Guert now 
declared there was no use in hesitating any longer; if asleep 
he would approach the chestnut cautiously, and capture the 
stranger, if an Indian, before he could rise ; and if a white 
man, it must be some one belonging to our own set, who 
was taking a nap, probably, after a fatiguing march. Sus- 
quesus must have satisfied himself, by this time, that there 
was no immediate danger ; for merely saying, “ all go toge- 
ther,” he quitted the cover, and led down towards the chestnut 
with a rapid but noiseless step. As we moved in a body 
all five of us reached the tree at the same instant, where we 
found Sam, one of our own hunters, and whom we supposed 
to be with Mr. Traverse, stretched on his back, dead ; 
with a wound in his breast that had been inflicted by a knife. 
He, too, had been scalped ! 

The looks we exchanged, said ah that could be said on 
the subject of the gravity of this new discovery. Susquesus, 
alone, was undisturbed ; I rather think he expected what he 
found. After examining the body, he seemed satisfied, 
simply saying, “ kill, last night.” 


SATANSTOE. 


387 


That poor Sam had been dead several hours was pretty 
certain, and the circumstance removed all apprehension of 
any immediate danger from his destroyers. The ruthless 
warriors of the woods seldom remained long near the spot 
they had desolated, but passed on, like the tornado, or the 
tempest. Guert, who was ever prompt when anything was 
to be done, pointed to a natural hollow in the earth ; one of 
those cavities tha> are so common in the forest, and which 
are usually attributed to the upturning of trees in remote 
ages, and suggest.. d that we should use it as a grave. The 
body was accordingly laid in the hole, and we covered it in 
the best manner we could ; succeeding in placing over it 
something like a foot deep of light loam, together with se- 
veral flat stones-, rolling logs on all, as we had done at the 
grave of Pete, l'y this time Guerfls feelings were so tho- 
roughly aroused, that, in addition to the prayer and the 
creed, which he again repeated, in a very decorous and 
devout manner, he concluded the whole ceremony by a brief 
address. Nor was Guert anything but serious in what he 
did, or said, on either of these solemn occasions; his words, 
like his acts, being purely the impulses of a simple mind, 
which possesses longings after devotion and scriptural truths, 
without knowing exactly how to express them ; and this, 
moreover, in spite of the mere animal propensities, and gay 
habits of his physical conformation, and constitutional ten- 
dencies. 

“ Deat’, my frients,” said Guert, most seriously, becoming 
Dutch, as usual, as he became interested ; “ Deat’ is a sut- 
ten visiter. He comes like a flief in the night, as you must 
all have often he’rt the Tominie say; and happy is he 
whose loins are girtet, and whose lamp is trimmed. Such, 
I trust, is the case with each of you ; for, it is not to be 
concealet, that we are likely to have serious work before us. 
Here have been Injins, beyont a question; and they are 
Injins, too, that are out on the war-path, in search of Eng- 
lish scalps; or, what is of equal importance to Mr. Follock 
and myself, Dutch scalps in the pargain ; which makes it 
so much the more necessary for every man to be on his 
guart, and to stant up to his work, when it may come, as 
the pull-tog stants up to the ox. Got forpit flat I should 
preach revenge over t’e grave of a frient ; but the soltier 


388 


S AT AN STOE. 


fights none the worse for knowing t’at he has peen injuret in 
his feelin’s, as has certainly peen the case with ourselves. 
Perhaps I ought to say a wort in behalf of the teat, as this 
is the last, and only time, that a fellow-creature will ever 
have occasion to speak of him. Sam was an excellent 
hunter, as his worst enemy must allow ; and now he is 
gone, few petter remain pehint. He had one weakness, 
which, stanting over his grave, an honest man ought not to 
try to conceal ; he dit love liquor ; put, in this, he was not 
alone. Nevertheless, he was honest ; and his wort might 
pass where many a man’s pont would be wort’less ; and I 
leave him in the merciful hants of his Creator. My frients, 
I haf but little more to say, and that is this — that life is 
uncertain, and deat’ is sure. Samuel has gone before us, 
only a little while; and may we all be equally preparet to 
meet our great account. Amen.” 

Did any one smile at this address! Far from it! Sin- 
gular, disconnected, and unsophisticated as it may seem to 
certain persons, it had one great merit that is not always 
discernible in the speeches of those who officiate at the most 
elaborate funeral rites. Guert w'as sincere, though he might 
not be either logical or very clear. This was apparent in 
his countenance, his voice, his whole manner. For myself, 
I will allow, I saw nothing particularly out of place, in this 
address, at the time, nor do I now' regard it as either irreve- 
rent or unseasonable. 

We left the grave of the hunter, in the depths of that in- 
terminable forest, as the ship passes away from the spot on 
the ocean where she has dropped her dead. At some future 
day, perhaps, the plough-share may turn up the bones, and 
the husbandman ruminate on the probable fate of the lonely 
man, whose remains will then again be brought to the light 
of day. As we left the spot, the Indian detained us a mo- 
ment, to put us on our guard. 

“ Huron do that,” he said, meaningly — “ No see differ- 
ence, eh ? Saw no hang up like Pete.” 

“ That is true enough, Susquesus,” Guert answered ; for 
Guert, by his age, his greater familiarity with the woods, 
his high courage and his personal prowess, had now as- 
sumed, unresistingly on our part, a sort of chieftainship 
®ver us. “ Can you tell us the reason, however?” 


l 




SATANSTOE 389 

“ Muss, you call him, back sore — that all. Know him 
well ; don’t love flog. No Injin love flog.” 

“ And you think, then, Jaap’s prisoner has had a hand in 
this, and that the war-path is open to revenge as well as 
public service — that we are hunted less for our scalps than 
to put a plaster on the Huron’s back ?” 

“ Sartain. T’ree canoe go by on lake — t’at Muss, you 
call him — know him, well. He no want sleep till back get 
well. See how he use nigger! Hang him on tree — only 
kill pale-face and take away scalp.” 

“ Do you suppose that he made this difference in the 
treatment of his two captives, on account of the colour 1 
That he was so cruel to Petrus because Jaap, another nig- 
ger, had flogged him ?” 

“ Sartain — just so. Back feel better after t’at. Good for 
back to hang nigger. Jaap see, some time.” 

I will do my fellow the justice to say, that in the way of 
courage, few men were his equals. As I have said before, 
he only feared spooks, or Dutch ghosts; for the awe he had 
of me was so blended with love, as not to deserve the name 
of fear. In general, unless the weather happened to be cold, 
his face was of a deep, glistening black ; coffin-colour, as 
the boys sometimes called it ; but, I observed, notwithstand- 
ing his nerve and his keen desire to be revenged for the 
cruel treatment bestowed on his companion and brother, 
that his skin now assumed a greyish hue, such as is seen 
only in hard frosts, as a rule, in the people of his race. It 
was evident that the Trackless’ manner of speaking had 
produced an effect ; and I have always thought the impres- 
sion then made on Jaap was of infinite service to us, by 
setting in motion, and keeping in lively activity, every 
faculty of his mind and body. I had a specimen of this, as 
we moved off, Jaap walking for some distance close at my 
heels, in order to make me the repository of his griefs and 
so. citude. 

“ t hopes, Masser Corny, sah,” commenced the negro, 
«• you doesn’t t’ink anyt’ing of what dis here Injin say V* 

“ I thn-k, Jaap, it will be necessary for you to keep your 
eyes open, and by no means to fall into the hands of your 
friend Muss, as you call him, or he may serve you even 
worse than he served poor Pete. I hope, too, this will be a 
33 * 


390 


SATANSTOE. 


f 


warning to you, of the necessity of treating your prisoners 
kindly, should you ever make another.” 

“ 1 don’t t’ink, Masser Corny, you consider pretty much, 
sah. What good it do a nigger to captivate an lnjin, if he 
let him go ag’in, and don’t lick him little? Only little, 
Masser Corny. Ebbery t’ing so handy too, sah — rope all 
ready, back bare, and feelin’ up, like, after such a time in 
takin’ ’e varmint, sah !” 

“ Well, Jaap, what is done, is done, and there is no use 
in regretting it, in words. Of one thing, however, you may 
be certain ; no mercy will be shown you , should this fellow, 
Muss, be actually out here, on our heels, and should you be 
so unfortunate as to fall into his hands.” 

The negro growled out his discontent, and I could see 
that his mind was made up to give stout battle, ere his wool 
should be disturbed by the knife of a savage. A moment 
later, he stepped aside, and respectfully permitted Dirck to 
take his proper place, next to me, in the line. 

We may have proceeded two miles from the spot where 
we had buried Sam, the hunter, when on rising a little hil- 
lock, the Indian tossed his arm, the sign that a new disco- 
very was made. This time, however, the gesture was rather 
made in exultation than in horror. As he came to a dead 
halt at the same instant, we all closed eagerly up, and got an 
early view of the cause of this exhibition of feeling. 

The ground fell away, in a sort of swell, for some dis- 
tance in our front ; and, the trees being all of the largest 
size, and totally without underbrush, the place had some- 
what of the appearance of a vast, forest edifice, to which the 
canopy of leaves above formed the roof, and the stems of 
oaks, lindens, beeches and maples, might be supposed to be 
the columns that upheld it. Within this wide, gloomy, yet 
not unpleasant hall, a sombre light prevailed, like that which 
is cast through the casements of an edifice of the ancient 
style of architecture, rendering everything mellow and grave. 
A spring of sweet water gushed from a rock, and near it 
were seated, in a circle, Mr. Traverse and his two chain- 
bearers, seemingly taking their morning’s meal ; or, rather, 
reclining after it, with the pail, platters and fragments before 
hem ; like men reposing after appeasing their hunger, and 
Vol. II. — 14 


SATANSTOE. 391 

passing a few minutes in idle talk. Torn, the second hunter 
and axe-man, lay asleep, a little apart. 

“ Here has been even no alarm, thank Got,” said Guert, 
cheerfully, “ and we are in time to let them know their 
danger. I will give the call ; it will sound sweetly to their 
ears !” 

“No call,” said Trackless, quickly ; “hollow no good, 
now. Soon get there, and tell him, in low voice.” 

As this was clearly prudent, we pushed forward in a body, 
taking no pains, however, to conceal our approach, but 
making somewhat of a measured tread, with our footsteps. 
A strange sensation came over me, as we advanced, and I 
found that neither of the surveyors stirred ! A suspicion of 
the dread truth forced itself on my mind ; but I can hardly 
say that the shock was any the less, when, on getting near, 
we saw by the pallid countenances, fixed, glassy eyes, and 
fallen jaws, that all our friends were dead. The savage 
ingenuity of Indians had propped the bodies in reclining po- 
sitions, and thrown them into attitudes that had a horrible 
resemblance to the species of indulgence that I have just 
described. 

“ Holy Heaven !” exclaimed Guert, dropping the butt of 
his rifle on the ground ; “ we are too late !” 

No one else spoke. On removing the caps, it was found 
that each man had been scalped, and that all of those, whom 
we had left a few days before, proud of their strength and 
instinct with life, had departed in spirit, soon to be seen no 
more. Jumper, the other Indian, alone remained to be ac- 
counted for. Rifle-balls had been at work here, each of the 
four having been shot; Mr. Traverse, in no less than three 
places. 

I will confess, that a suspicion of the Oneida crossed my 
mind, now, for the first time ; and I did not scruple to men- 
tion it to my companions, as soon as either of us had power 
to speak, or listen. 

“ No true,” said Trackless, positively. “ Jumper poor 
Injin — that so — love rum — no rascal, to kill friend. Muso- 
hoeenah warrior to do so. Just like him. No; Jumper 
fool — love rum — no bad Injin.” 

Where, then, was Jumper? He alone, of all whom we 
had left behind us, remained to be found. We made a long 


392 


SATANSTOE. 


search for his body, but without any success. Susquesus 
examined the trails, and the bodies, and gave it as his opin- 
ion that the surveyor and chain-bearers might have been 
killed about three or four hours; and that the murderers, 
for such, in our eyes, they who had done the foul deed were 
to be accounted, had not been away from the place more 
than twenty minutes, when we arrived. This might well 
have happened, and we not hear the rifles ; as the distance 
from the hut was several miles ; and, two hours before, we 
must have been not far from the place where we had passed 
the night. That the attack occurred after daylight, was 
reasonably certain ; and, as Pete was surely seized while 
alive, some intelligence might have been obtained from him, 
that directed the savages to the point where the outlying 
party would probably be expecting him. 'Nevertheless, this 
was pretty much conjecture, and we never knew which vic- 
tim fell first, or whether the negro was taken at all, near 
the spot where he was gibbeted. The infernal cruelty of 
his conquerors may have kept him as a prisoner, for some 
time before the final catastrophe, and caused them to carry 
him about with them as a captive, in order to subject the 
wretch to as much misery as possible, for, as Susquesus said, 
Muss’ ‘ back very sore.’ 

We buried poor Traverse, and his chain-bearers, near the 
spring, using one of the same natural hollows in the earth 
as that in which we had interred the hunter. On a search, 
it was ascertained that their arms and ammunition had been 
carried off, and that the pockets of the dead men had been 
rifled. The American Indian is seldom a thief, in the ordi- 
nary sense of the term ; but, he treats the property of those 
whom he slays as his own. In this particular, he does not 
differ materially from the civilized soldier, I believe, plunder 
being usually considered as a legitimate benefit of war. The 
Hurons had laid their hands on the compass and chains, for 
we could discover neither ; but they had left the field-book 
and notes of Traverse, as things that, to them, were useless. 
In other respects, the visit of the savages to this fatal spot 
left the appearance of having been hurried. 

On this occasion, Guert made no attempts at morals, or 
eloquence. The shock had disqualified us all for anything 
of the sort, and we discharged our duties with the earnes* ' 


SATANSTOE. 


393 


diligence, and grave thoughtfulness, of, men who did not 
know but the next moment might bring themselves into the 
midst of a scene of deadly strife. We worked hard, and a 
little hastily, and were soon ready to depart. It was deter- 
mined, on a hurried consultation, to follow the trail of the 
Hu rons, as the most certain method of surprising them, on 
the one hand, and of preventing them from surprising us, 
on the other. The Indian would have no difficulty in pur- 
suing the very obvious trail that was left, and which bore 
all the proofs of having been left by a dozen men. 

The reader, who is unacquainted with the usages of the 
American savage, is not to suppose that this party had 
moved through the forest, in a disorderly group, regardless 
of the nature of the vestiges of their passage left behind 
them. The native warrior never does that ; usually he 
marches in a line of single files, which has obtained the 
name of Indian file with us ; and, whenever there are strong 
reasons for concealing his numbers, it is his practice for 
each succeeding man to follow, as nearly as possible, in the 
footsteps of the warrior who precedes him ; thereby render- 
ing a computation difficult, if not impossible. In this man- 
ner our foes had evidently marched ; but Susquesus, who 
had been busy examining the marks around the spring, the 
whole time we were occupied in burying the dead, gave it 
as his ©pinion that our enemies could not number less than 
a dozen warriors. This was not very pleasing intelligence, 
since it would render success in a conflict next to hopeless. 
So, at least, I viewed the matter, though Guert saw things 
differently. This highly intrepid man could not find it in 
his heart to abandon the idea of driving foes so ruthless 
out of the country; and, I do believe, he would have faced 
a hundred savages at once when we quitted the spring. 

The Onondago had no difficulty in following the trail, 
which led us, at first, for some distance in a line towards 
Ravensnest, then made a sudden inclination in the direction 
of the hut. It was probably owing to this circuit, and want 
of settled purpose in the Hurons, that we did not encounter 
them on our advance towards the “ bloody spring,” as the 
spot where Traverse was slain has been subsequently 
called. 

It was not long ere we found ourselves quite near our owu 


394 


S AT ANSTOE. 


trail, though, perhaps fortunately for us, we did not actually 
strike it. Had our movement been discovered, doubtless the 
enemy would have got into our rear, a position in which 
Indians are always most formidable. As it was, however, 
we possessed that great advantage ourselves, and pursued 
our way with so much the greater confidence, knowing full 
well that danger was only to be apprehended in our front, 
the quarter on which all our eyes were fixed. 

Although our return-march was swift, it was silent as 
that of a train of mourners. Mourners we were, indeed, for 
it was not possible for human hearts to be so obdurate as to 
feel insensible to the amount of misery that our late com- 
panions must have suffered, and to the suddenness of their 
fates. No one spoke, and Susquesus had never found us so 
close on his heels as we kept ourselves all that morning. 
The foot of the file-leader was scarcely out of its place, ere 
that of his successor covered the same spot ! 

The trail led us quite close to the hut, which we reached 
as near as might be to noon. On approaching the cabin, we 
used the utmost caution lest our enemies might then be in it, 
in ambush. The trail did not extend quite to the building, 
however, but diverged in a westerly direction, from a point 
that may have been a hundred yards distant from our habi- 
tation, though in full view of it. Here we found the signs 
of a gathering of the party into a cluster, and we inferred 
that. a counsel had been held on the subject of once more 
going to the hut, or of turning aside to pursue some other 
object. Susquesus made a close examination at this spot, 
and gave it as his opinion, again, that the hostiles must, at 
least, number the dozen he had already mentioned. Leaving 
us to watch the signs about our dwelling, from covers we 
took for that purpose, he followed the trail for half a mile, 
in order to make certain it did not approach the log-house 
on its opposite side. So far from this proving to be the 
case, however, he ascertained that it led off in a straight 
line towards Ravensnest. This was, if anything, more un- 
pleasant news to Guert and myself, than if the Onondago 
had brought back a confirmation of his first suspicion that 
the Hurons might be waiting for us, in our own temporary 
house. Complaints were useless, however, and we smother- 
ed our apprehensions as well as we could. 


SATANSTOE. 


395 


Susquesus was not a warrior to confide entirely in the 
signs of an open march. Experienced woodsmen frequently 
left their trails visible expressly to deceive ; and the Onon- 
dago, who personally knew Muss, as Jaap called his pri- 
soner, was fully aware that he had to deal with a profoundly 
artful foe. Not satisfied with even what he had seen, he 
cautioned us about quitting the cover, except under his 
guidance, and then commenced a mode of approach that 
was purely Indian, and which, in its way, had much of the 
merit of the approaches of more civilized besiegers, by 
means of their entrenchments and zig-zags. Our advance 
was regulated in this way. Each man was told to select 
the nearest tree that led him towards the hut, and to pass 
from the old to the new cover, in as rapid and sudden a 
manner as his agility would allow. By observing this pre- 
caution, and by using great activity, we had got within 
twenty yards of the door of the cabin, in the course of ten 
minutes. Guert could not submit to this slow, and, as he 
called it, unmanly procedure any longer; but quitting his 
cover, he now walked straight and steadily to the door of 
the cabin, threw it open, and announced to us that the place 
was empty. Susquesus made another close examination 
around the building, and told us he felt quite certain that 
the spot had not been visited since we had left it that morn- 
ing. That was grateful intelligence to us all, since it was 
the only probable clue by which our enemies could have 
learned our return to the Patent at all. 

The question now arose as to future proceedings. No- 
thing was to be gained by remaining on the property, while 
prudence, and the danger of our friends, united to call us 
away. We felt it would be a most hazardous thing to at- 
tempt reaching Ravensnest ; though we felt it was a hazard 
we were bound to incur. While the matter was talked over, 
those among us who had any appetite, profited by the halt, 
to dine. An Indian on a war-path, is equally ready to eat, 
or to fast; his powers of endurance, both ways, more espe- 
cially when the food is game, amounting to something won- 
derful. 

While Susquesus, and Jaap,, in particular, were performing 
their parts in a very serious manner, in this way, and the 
rest of us were picking up a few morsels, more like men 


396 


SATANSTOE. 


whose moral feelings checked their physical propensities, I 
caught a distant glimpse of a man’s form, as it glided among 
the trees, at some distance from us. Surprise and awe were 
so strong in me, that I did not speak, but pointed with a 
finger eagerly in the necessary direction, in order to let the 
Onondago see the same object too. Susquesus was not slow 
in detecting the stranger, however; for I think he must have 
seen him, even before he was descried by myself. Instead of 
manifesting any emotion, however, the Onondago did not 
even cease to eat; but merely nodded his head, and muttered, 
“ Good — now hear news — Jumper come.” 

Sure enough, it was Jumper; and his appearance in the 
flesh, not only alive, but unharmed, produced a general 
shout among us as he came in, on such a long, loping gait, 
as usually marked a runner’s movement. In a moment he 
was among us, calm, collected, and without motion. He 
gave no salutation, but seated himself quietly on a log, 
waiting to be questioned, before he spoke ; impatience being 
a womanly weakness. 

“ Jumper, my honest fellow,” cried Guert, not without 
emotion, for joy was struggling powerfully with his organs 
of speech, “ you are heartily welcome ! These devils in- 
carnate, the Hurons, have not injured you , at least !” 

Liquor had rendered Jumper’s faculties somewhat obtuse, 
in general, though he was now perfectly sober. He gave a 
sort of dull look of recognition at the speaker, and muttered 
his answer in a low, sluggish tone: 

“ Plenty Huron,” he said ; “ clearin’ full. Pale-face in 
fort send Jumper with message.” 

We should have overwhelmed the fellow with questions, 
had he not unfolded a corner of his calico shirt, and exhi- 
bited several letters, each of which was soon in the hand o f 
the individual to whom it was addressed. Guert, Dirck, 
and myself, severally got his communication ; while there 
was a fourth, in the handwriting of Herman Mordaunt, that 
bore the superscription of poor Traverse’s name. Subse- 
quent events have placed it in my power to give copies of all 
the letters, thus received. My own was in the following 
Words : 

“ My dearest father is so much occupied, as to desire me 


SATANSTOE. 


397 


to write you this note. Mr. Bulstrode sent an express, yea 
terday, who was bearer of the sad tidings from Ticonderoga. 
lie also announced his own approach ; and we expect him, 
in a horse-litter, this evening. Reports are flying about the 
settlement, that savages have been seen in our own woods. 
I endeavour to hope that this is only one of those idle ru- 
mours, of which we have had so many, lately. My father 
however, is taking all necessary precautions, and he desires 
me to urge on you the necessity of collecting all your party, 
should you be again at Mooseridge, and of joining us without 
delay. We have heard of your safety, and gallant conduct, 
through the man sent forward by Mr. Bulstrode ; his master 
having heard of you all, safe in a canoe on the lake, the 
night after the battle, through a Mr. Lee ; a gentleman of 
great eccentricity of character, though, it is said, of much 
talent, with whom papa happens to be acquainted. I trust 
this note will And you at your hut, and that we shall see 
you all, with the least possible delay. 

“Anneke.” 

This, certainly, was not a note to appease the longings 
of a lover ; though I had infinite gratification in seeing the 
pretty characters that had been traced by Anne Mordaunt’s 
hand, and of kissing the page over which that hand must have 
passed. But, there was a postscript, the part of a letter in 
which a woman is said always to give the clearest insight 
into her true thoughts. It was in these words, viz. : — 

“ I see that I have underscored the ‘ me,’ where I speak 
of papa’s desire that / should write to you, in preference to 
another. We have gone through one dreadful scene, in 
company, and, I confess, Corny, I should feel far happier, 
if another is to occur, that you , and yours , should be with 
us, here, behind the defences of this house, than exposed, as 
you otherwise might be, in the forest. Come to us, then, I 
repeat, with the least possible delay.” 

This postscript afforded me far more satisfaction than the 
body of the note ; and I was quite as ready to comply with 
Anneke’s request, as the dear girl, herself, could be to urge 
it. Guert’s letter was as follows : — 

“ Mr. Mordaunt has commanded Anneke and myself to 
34 


398 


SATANSTOE . 


write to those of your party, with whom he fancies each has 
the most influence, to urge you to come to Ravensnest, as 
speedily as possible. We have received most melancholy 
news ; and a panic prevails among the poor people of this 
settlement. We learn that Mr. Bulstrode, accompanied by 
Mr. Worden, is within a few hours’ journey of us, and the 
families of the vicinity are coming to us, frightened and 
weeping. I do not know that I feel much alarmed, myself; 
my great dependence is on a merciful Providence ; but, the 
dread Being on whom I rely, works through human agents ; 
and, I know of none in whom I can place more confidence, 
than on Guert Ten Eyck. 

“Mary Wallace.” 

“By St. Nicholas! Corny, these are such summonses as 
a man never hesitates about obeying,” cried Guert, rising, 
and beginning to replace his knapsack. “ By using great 
diligence, we may reach the Nest, yet, before the family 
goes to bed, and make not only them, but ourselves, so much 
the more comfortable and secure.” 

Guert had a willing auditor, in me; nor was Dirck at all 
backward about complying. The letters certainly much 
quickened our impulses ; though, in fact, there remained 
nothing else to do ; unless, indeed, we intended to lie out, 
exposed to all the risks of a vindictive and savage warfare. 
Diro-k’s letter was from Herman Mordaunt ; and it told the 
truth in plainer language than it had been related by either 
of the ladies. Here it is. 

“ Dear Dirck, — The savages are certainly approaching 
us, my young kinsman ; and it is for the good of us all to 
unite our forces. Come in, for God’s sake, with your 
whole party, as speedily as possible. I have had scouts out, 
and they have all come in with reports that the signs of 
trails, in the forest, abound. I expect, at least a hundred 
warriors will be upon us, by to-morrow, and am making 
my preparations accordingly. In approaching the Nest, I 
would advise you to enter the ravine north of the house, and 
to keep within its cover until you get to its southern termi- 
nation. This will bring you within a hundred rods of the 
gate, and greatly increase your chances of entering, should 


S AT ANSTOE. 


399 


we happen to be invested when you get here. God bless 
you, dear Dirck, and guide you all safely to your friends. 

“ Herman Mordaunt. 

“Ravensnest, July 11th, 1758.” 

Guert and I read this letter hastily, before we commenced 
our march. Then, abandoning the hut, and all it contained, 
to the mercy of any who might pass that way, we set off 
for our point of destination, on a quick step, carrying little 
besides our arms, ammunition, and the food that was neces- 
sary to assure our strength. 

As before, Trackless led, keeping the Jumper a little on 
his flank; the danger of encountering foes being now con- 
sidered to be greatly increased. It was true, we were still 
in the rear of the party that had committed the deeds at 
Mooseridge ; but the Onondago no longer followed its trail; 
pursuing a different course, or one that led directly to his 
object. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

“ My father had a daughter lov’d a man, 

As it might be perhaps, were I a woman, 

I should your lordship.” 

Viola. 

As the reader must, by this time, have a pretty accurate 
idea of our manner of marching in the wilderness, I shall 
not dwell on this part of our proceedings any longer. On 
we went, and at a rapid rate, the guide having abandoned 
the common route, which had got to be a pretty visible trail, 
and taking another on which, as it appeared to me, he had 
no other clue than an instinct. Guert had told Susquesus 
of the ravine, and how desirable it was to reach it, getting 
for an answer a quiet nod of the head, and a low ejacula- 
tion. It was understood, however, that we were to approach 
Herman Mordaunt’s fortress, by that avenue. 


400 


SATANSTOE. 


It was past the turn of the day when we quitted Moose- 
ridge, and none of us hoped to reach Ravensnest before 
dark. It fell out, as we expected, night drawing its veii 
over the scene, about half an hour before the Trackless 
plunged into the northern, or forest-end of the ravine. Thus 
far, we had got no evidence whatever of the proximity of 
foes. Our march had been silent, rapid, and watchful, but 
it proved to be perfectly undisturbed. We knew, however, 
that the critical portion of it was still before us ; and just as 
the sun set, we had made a halt, in order to look to our 
arms. It may now be well to say a word or two on the 
subject of the position of Herman Mordaunt’s ‘ garrison,’ as 
well as of the adjacent settlement. I call Ravensnest the 
‘ garrison,’ for that is the word which New York custom has 
long applied to the fortress itself, as well as those who de- 
fend it. Some critics pretend there is authority to justify 
the practice, and I see by the dictionaries that they are not 
entirely in the wrong. 

The Nest stood quite half a mile from the nearest point 
of the forest, a belt of trees that fringed the margin, and 
which filled the cavity of the ravine, excepted. Near it, 
and in plain sight, was the heart of the settlement itself, 
which extended, in an east and west direction, fully four 
miles. This area, however, was cleared only in a settle- 
ment fashion ; having patches of virgin forest scattered 
pretty profusely over its surface. The mill-lot, as Jason’s 
purchase was termed, lay at the most distant extremity of 
the view, but, a3 yet, the axe had not been applied to it. I 
had remarked in my last visit to the place, that, standing 
before Herman Mordaunt’s door, something like a dozen 
log cabins were to be seen at a time in different parts of the 
settlement, and that this number might have been increased 
‘o twenty, by varying the observer’s position. 

Of course, the whole of the open space was more or less 
disfigured by stumps, dead and girdled trees, charred stubs, 
log-heaps, brush, and all the other unseemly accompani- 
ments of the first eight or ten years of the existence of a 
new settlement. This period, in the history of a country, 
may be likened to the hobbledehoy condition in ourselves, 
when we have lost the graces of childhood, without having 
attained the finished forms of men. 


S AT ANSTOE. 


401 


Herman Mordaunt’s settlement would have been thought 
a strong country, in one sense, for a held hght, had there 
been men enough to contend with a hostile party of any 
force. But, I had heard him say that he had but about 
seventeen rifles and muskets that could be in the least relied 
on, inasmuch as some ot his people were Europeans, and 
had no knowledge of fire-arms, while experience had shown 
that others, on the occurrence of an alarm, invariably fled 
to the woods, with their families, instead of rallying around 
the settlement colours. Such delinquencies usually take 
place, I believe, on all emergencies ; love of life being even 
a stronger instinct than love of property. Here and there 
a sturdy fellow, however, would bar himself in, with a de- 
termination to go for the whole, under his own bark roof; 
and, occasionally, defences were made that would do credit 
to a hero. 

It should be apparent to those who have any accurate 
notion of savage warfare, that the ravine, being, as it was, 
the only wooded spot near Herman Mordaunt’s fortress, 
would be the place of all others most likely to contain an 
enemy who made his approaches against a garrison, by 
means of natural facilities alone. We were aware of this ; 
and Guert, who took an active command among us, as we 
drew near to danger, issued his commands for every man to be 
on the alert, in order that there might be no confusion. We 
were instructed as to the manner of proceeding the moment 
an alarm was given ; and Guert, who was a capital mimic, 
had previously taught us several calls and rallying signals, 
all of which were good imitations of the cries of different 
tenants of the woods, principally birds. These signals had 
their origin with the red-man, who often resorted to them, 
and were said to be more successfully practised by our own 
hunters and riflemen than even by those with whom they 
originated. 

On entering the ravine, the order of our march was 
changed. While Susquesus and Jumper were still kept in 
advance, Guert, Dirck, Jaap and myself moved abreast, and 
quite close together. The density of the foliage, and the 
deep obscurity that prevailed in the bottom of this dell-like 
hollow, rendered this precaution necessary. It soon became 
so dark, indeed, that our only guide was the brook that 
34 * 


402 


S ATANSTOE. 


gurgled along the bottom of the ravine, and which we knew 
issued into the open ground at its termination, to join a small 
river that meandered through some natural meadows to the 
westward of the Nest, but which, in the language of the 
country, was called a ‘creek.’ This abuse of good old 
English words, I am sorry to say, is getting to be only too 
common among us ; yet, I have heard Americans boast that 
we speak the language better than the mother country ! That 
we have no class among us that uses an unintelligible dia- 
lect, like that of Lancashire or Yorkshire, is true enough; 
and, that we have fewer persons who use decided vulgarisms, 
in the way of false grammar, than is the case in England, 
may be also accurate ; but, it might be well for us to correct 
a great many faults into which we have certainly fallen, be- 
fore we declaim with so much confidence about the purity 
of our English.* To return to the ravine. 

We had gone so far in the hollow, dark dell, as to have 
reached a point where the faint light of the open ground 
and the stars in the firmament became visible to us, when 
we suddenly found ourselves alongside of the Trackless 
and Jumper. These Indians had halted ; for their quick, 
jealous, eagle-like glances had detected the signs of enemies. 
Nor was this discovery very difficult to make, though some 
pains had actually been taken to conceal what was going 
on in our front. A party of some forty savages, every man 
of whom was in his war-paint, had lighted a fire beneath a 
shelving rock, and were gathered around it at supper. The 
fire had already done its duty, and was now merely smoul- 

* It is northern American, to call a small ‘ lake’ a ‘ pond,’ a small 
‘ river’ a ‘ creek,’ even though it should be an ‘ outlet,’ instead of an 
‘ inlet,’ <fec. &c. It is a more difficult thing than is commonly sup- 
posed, to make two great nations, each of which is disposed to 
innovate, speak the same language with precise uniformity. The 
Manhattanese, who have probably fewer of the peculiarities of the 
inhabitants of a capital than the population of any other town in the 
world of four hundred thousand souls, the consequences of a rapid 
growth, and of a people who have come principally from the country, 
are much addicted to introducing new significations for words, which 
arise from their own provincial habits. In Manhattanese parlance, 
for instance, a ‘square’ is a ‘park,’ or, even a ‘garden’ is a ‘park.’ 
A promenade, on the water, is a ‘ battery !’ It is a pity that, in this 
humour for change, they have not thought of altering the complex 
and imitative name of their town. — Editor. 


SAT ANSTOE. 


403 


dering, throwing a faint, flickering light on the dark, fiercs 
features of the group that was clustered round. We might 
have approached the spot in any other direction, without 
seeing the danger in time to avoid it ; but a kind Providence 
had carried the two Indians directly to a point where the 
dying embers immediately caught their attention, and where 
they halted as has been said. I do not think we were more 
than forty yards from this fearful band of savages, when 
they first met my eye ; and, hardened as I had certainly 
somewhat become, by the service and scenes I had so lately 
gone through, I will confess that my blood was a little chilled 
at the sight. 

Our conference was in whispers. There we stood, huddled 
together beneath a huge oak, the shade of which rendered 
the darkness that formed our only safeguard, so much the 
more intense. So close were we, in fact, that even Jaap’s 
body was in absolute contact with my own. Susquesus 
proposed making a detour , by crossing the brook, which, 
fortunately, tumbled down some rocks at this point, making 
a very favourable noise, and thus pass our enemies, who 
would not probably end their meal until we had time to 
reach the ‘ garrison.’ To this Guert applied his veto. He 
was of opinion, and I have always thought it was the deci- 
sion of a man born to be a soldier, that we were exactly in 
the position we might desire to occupy, in order to be of 
great service to the family, and to strike the enemy with a 
panic. By attacking, we should certainly surprise the party 
in our front, and might make such an impression as would 
induce them to abandon the settlement. Both Dirck and 
myself coincided in this opinion, which even received the 
support of Jaap’s voice. 

“Yes, sah ! — yes, Masser Corny, now ’e time to wen- 
geance poor Pete !” he muttered, and that rather louder than 
was thought quite prudent. 

As soon as the Trackless found how things were going, 
he and Jumper prepared for the conflict, as coolly as any 
of us. Our arrangements were very simple, and were soon 
made. We were to deliver a single fire from the spot where 
we stood, shout, and charge with the knife and tomahawk. 
No time was to be wasted, however ; and, instead of remain- 
ing near the light, small as it was, we were to push for the 


404 


SATAN STOE. 


/ 


mouth of the ravine, and thence make the best of our way, 
singly or in company, as chance should offer, to the gate 
of Ravensnest. In a moment we were in open files, and 
had our orders. 

“ Remember Traverse !” said Guert, sternly- — “ remem- 
ber poor Sam, and all our murleret frients !” 

The reader knows that Guert was apt to be very Dutch, 
when much excited. We did remember the dead ; and I 
have often thought, but never knew precisely, that each of 
us sacrificed a victim to the manes of our lost companions, 
on that stern occasion. Our rifles rang, or cracked would 
be the better word, almost simultaneously ; a yell arose from 
the savages around the fire; our own shouts mingled with 
that yell, and forward we went, endeavouring to make our 
numbers appear as if we were a hundred. 

One retains but very indistinct notions of a charge like 
that, made as it was, in the dark, beyond its general cha- 
racteristics. We swept directly among the slain and 
wounded, and I heard Jaap dealing one or two awful blows 
on the bodies ; but no one opposed us. A moment after we 
had passed the smouldering fire, three or four shot were 
discharged at us, but there was no sign of their telling on 
any of our party. The distance from the fire to the mouth 
of the ravine, might have been a hundred yards ; and the 
external light, or lesser darkness may be a better expression, 
served us for a guide. Thither we pushed, fast as we could, 
though by no means in compact order. 

For this part of the affair, I can only speak for myself. 
I saw men moving swiftly among the trees, and I supposed 
them to be my companions ; but we had become separated, 
it being understood that each man was now to shift for him- 
self. As our rifles were discharged, and there was no time 
to reload them, there was little use, indeed, in any halt. 
Perceiving this, I did not issue from the ravine at the brook, 
but clinging more to its side, left it at a little height above 
the level of the adjacent plain. Here I paused to load, the 
cover being good, and the position every way favourable. 
While thus employed, I found time to look around me, and 
to ascertain the situation of things in the settlement, so far 
as the hour and the obscurity would permit. 

The plain was glimmering with the remains of a dozen 


SATANSTOE. 


405 


large fires, the ruins of so many log- houses and barns. 
Their light amounted to no more than to render the darkness 
of the night distinctly visible, and to afford some small clues 
to the extent of the ravages that had been already committed. 
The house of Ravensnest, however, was untouched. There 
it stood, looking dark and gloomy ; for, having no external 
windows, no other light was to be seen than a single candle, 
that was probably placed in a loophole as a signal. Pro- 
found stillness reigned in and around the building, producing 
a species of mystery that was, in itself, under such circum- 
stances, an element of force. There was not light enough 
to distinguish objects at any distance, and, having reloaded 
my rifle, I thought it wisest to make the best of my way to 
the gate. At that moment, the stillness in my rear seemed 
to possess something affirmatively fearful about it. 

It was certainly a somewhat hazardous thing to break 
cover, at such a moment, and under such circumstances; 
but it was absolutely necessary to incur its risks. My first 
leap carried me half-way down the declivity, and I was soon 
on the level land. In my front were two men, one of whom 
seemed to me to be in the grasp of the other. As they were 
moving, though slowly, in the direction of the house, I ven- 
tured to ask * Who goes there? 

“ Oh, Corny, my lad, is that you ?” answered Guert. 
“ Got be praised ! you seem unhurt, and are just in time to 
help me along with this Huron, on whom I blundered in the 
dark, and have disarmed and captured. Give him a kick 
or a push, if you please ; for the fellow holds back like a 
hog.” 

I had too much knowledge of Indian vindictiveness, how- 
ever, to adopt the means recommended ; but seizing the 
captive by one arm, while Guert held the other, we ran him 
up to the abbatis that covered the gate of the “ garrison,” 
with very little difficulty. Here we found Herman Mordaunt 
and a dozen of his people, all armed, ready to receive us. 
They were in expectation of our appearance, both on account 
of the hour, and on account of the clamour in the ravine, 
which had been distinctly heard at the house. In less than 
a minute everybody was in, safe and unharmed. The fact 
was, that our attack had been so sudden as to sweep every- 
thing before it, and the enemy had not time to recover from 


406 


SAT ANSTOE. 


his panic, before we were all snugly housed. Once within 
the gate of Ravensnest we ran no risks, beyond those which 
were common to all such log fortresses in the warfare of the 
wilderness. 

It would not be easy for a pen as unskilful as mine, to 
portray the change, from the gloom of the ravine, the short 
but bloody assault, the shouts, the rush, and the retreat, of 
the outer world, to the scene of domestic security we found 
within the Nest, embellished, as was the last, by woman’s 
loveliness and graces, and, in many respects, by woman’s 
elegance. Anneke and her friend received us in a bright, 
cheerful, comfortable apartment, that was rendered so much 
the more attractive by their tears and their smiles, neither of 
which were spared. I could see that both had been dread- 
fully agitated ; but joy restored their colour, and brought 
back the smiles to their sweet faces. The situation of the 
place was such, perhaps, as to render cheerfulness neither 
very lasting nor very lively ; but the tenderest female can 
find her heart suddenly so lightened from its burthen of 
apprehensions, as to be able to seem momentarily happy, 
even when environed by the horrors of war. Such, in a 
measure, was the character of the reception we now received, 
together with a thousand thanks for having so promptly 
answered their letters in person. The dear creatures had 
the ingenuity not to seem to ascribe that prompt obedience 
to their own requests, which we had manifested, to any care 
for ourselves, but solely to a wish to oblige and protect them. 
The reader will understand that all explanations still remained 
to be made, on both sides. These soon came, however ; 
facts pressing themselves on the attention, at such times, 
with a weight that is irresistible. The ice was broken by 
Herman Mordaunt’s entering the room, and speaking to us, 
like one who felt that a great omission had been made. 

“ We had closed the gate, and set the look-out at the 
loops again,” he said, “ before I ascertained that all your 
party is not here. I see nothing of Traverse and his chain- 
bearers, nor of Sam or Tom, your hunters ! Surely, they 
are not left behind in the forest?” 

Neither of us three spoke. Our looks must have told the 
sad story, for-Herman Mordaunt seemed to understand us 
on the instant. 


SAT ANSTOE, 


407 


“No!” he exclaimed — “ Can it be possible? Not all, 
surely !” 

“All, Mr. Mordaunt, even to my poor slave, Petrus,” 
answered Guert, solemnly. “ They were set upon, while 
dispersed, I suppose, and have been murdered, while we were 
still absent, on our expedition.” 

The dear girls clasped their hands, and I thought Anneke’s 
pallid lips moved, as if in prayer. Her father shook his 
head, and for some time he paced the room in silence. Then 
rousing himself, like one conscious of the necessity of 
calmness and exertion, he resumed the discourse. 

“ Thank God, Mr. Bulstrode reached us safely last eve- 
ning, just after we despatched the runner; and he is beyond 
the reach of these demons for the present 1” 

After this we were enabled to converse more connectedly, 
exchanging such statements as enabled each party to under- 
stand the precise condition of the other. We were then 
carried to Bulstrode’s room, for he had expressed a desire to 
see us, as soon as we could be spared. Our fellow-cam- 
paigner received us in good spirits, for one in his situation, 
speaking of the events in front of Ticonderoga sensibly, 
and without any attempt to conceal the mortification that he 
felt, in common with the whole British empire. His hurt 
was by no means a bad one ; likely to cripple him for a few 
weeks, but the leg was in no danger. 

“ I have had the resolution and address, Corny, to work 
my way into good quarters, this unexpected siege excepted,” 
he observed to me, when the others had withdrawn, leaving 
us alone. “ This rivalry of ours is a generous one, and 
may now have fair play. If we quit this Nest of Herman 
Mordaunt’s without ascertaining the true state of Anneke’s 
feelings, we shall deserve to be condemned to celibacy for 
the remainder of our days. There never were two such 
opportunities for wooing to advantage 1” 

“ I confess our situation does not strike me as being quite 
as favourable, Mr. Bulstrode,” I answered. “ Anneke must 
have too many apprehensions on her own account, and on 
account of others, to be as sensible to the tender sentiments 
of love, as might be the case in the peace and security of 
Lilacsbush.” 

“ Ah ! It is very evident you know nothing of the female 


408 


SATANSTOE. 


sex, Corny, by that remark. I will grant you, that un- 
wooed previously, and without any foundation laid, if I may 
express myself so irreverently, your theory might turn out 
to be true; but not so under actual circumstances. Here is 
a young lady in her nineteenth year, who knows she is not 
only sought, but has long been sought, ay warmly, ardently 
sought, by two reasonably unobjectionable young men, placed 
in the very situation to have all her sensibilities excited, by 
one or the other, and, depend on it, the matter will be deter- 
mined within this blessed week. If I should prove to be the 
fortunate man, I hope to be able to manifest a generous sym- 
pathy ; and, vice vei'sa, I shall expect the same. Though 
this sad, sad business before Ty has been a good prepara- 
tive for humiliation.” 

I could not avoid smiling at Bulstrode’s singular views 
of our suit ; but, as Anneke was ever with me an engross- 
ing theme, spite of our situation, which certainly was not 
particularly appropriate to love, I did not feel equal to quit- 
ting it abruptly. The matter was consequently pursued. 
As I asked Bulstrode to explain himself, I got from him the 
following account of his theory. 

“ Why, I reason in this wise, Corny. Anneke loves one 
of us two, beyond all question. That she loves, I will 
swear; her blushes, her beaming eyes, even her beauty is 
replete with the loveliness of the sentiment. Now, it is not 
possible that she should love any other person than one of 
us two, for the simple reason that she has no other suitor. 
X shall be frank with you, and confess that I think I am the 
favoured fellow, while, I dare say, you are just as sanguine 
and think it is yourself.” 

“ I give you my honour, Major Bulstrode, so presuming, 
so improper a thought has never ” 

“ Yes, yes — I understand all that. You are not worthy 
of Anne Mordaunt’s love, and therefore have never pre- 
sumed to imagine that she could bestow it on such a poor, 
miserable, worthless, good-for-nothing a fellow as yourself. 
I have a great deal of the same very proper feeling ; but, at 
the same time, each of us is quite confident of his own suc- 
cess, or he would have given up the pursuit long since.” 

“I do assure you, Bulstrode, anything but confidence 


SATANSTOE. 


409 


mingles with my feelings on this subject. You may have 
reasons for your own security, but I can boast of none.” 

“ I have no other than self-love, of which every man has 
a just portion for his own comfort and peace of mind. I 
say that hope is indispensable t<y love, and hope is allied to 
confidence. My reasoning on these points is very simple. 
And, now for the peculiar advantages we enjoy for bringing 
matters to a crisis. In the first place, I am hurt, you will 
understand ; suffering under an honourable wound, received 
in open battle, fighting for king and country. Then, I 
have been brought fresh from the field, on my litter, into 
the presence of my mistress, bearing on my person the evi- 
dence of my risk, and, I hope, of my good conduct. There 
is not one woman in a thousand, if she hesitated between 
us, that would not decide in my favour, on these grounds 
alone. You have no notion, Corny, how the hearts of these 
sweet, gentle, devoted, generous little American girls melt to 
sympathy, and the sufferings of a poor wretch that they 
know adores them ! Make a nurse of a female, and she is 
yours, nine times out of ten. This has been a master-stroke 
of mine, but I hope you will pardon it. Stratagems are 
excusable in love, as in war.” 

“ I have no difficulty in understanding your policy, Bul- 
strode ; though I confess to some in understanding your 
frankness. Such as it is, however, I trust you feel certain 
it will not be abused. Now, as to my situation, what pe- 
culiar countervailing advantages do I enjoy?” 

“ Those of a defender. Oh, that is a battering-ram of 
itself! This confounded assault on the settlement, which 
they tell me is rather serious, and may keep alive appre- 
hensions for some days yet, is a most unlucky thing for me, 
while it is of great advantage to you. A wounded man 
cannot excite one-half the interest he otherwise might, when 
there is a chance that others may be slain, every minute. 
Then, the character of a defender is a great deal; and 
being a generous rival, as I have always told you, Corny, 
my advice is to make the most of it. I conceal nothing, 
and intend to do all I can with my wound.” 

It was scarcely possible nor to laugh at this strangely 
frank, yet, I fully believe, strangely sincere communication ; 
for Bulstrode was a humorist, with all his conventionalism 
3 5 


410 


SATAN STOE. 


and London notions, and was more addicted to saying pre- 
cisely what he thought, than is common with men of his 
class. After sitting and chatting with him half an hour 
longer, on the subject of the late military operations, of 
which he spoke with both feeling and good sense, 1 took my 
leave for the night. 

“ God bless you, Corny,"’ he said, squeezing my hand, 
as I left him ; “ improve the opportunity in your own way, 
for I assure you I shall do it in mine. It is present valour 
against past valour. If it were not my own case that is 
concerned, there is not a man living to whom I should more 
freely wish success.” 

And I believe Bulstrode did not exceed the truth in his 
declarations. That I should succeed with Anneke, he did 
not think, as was apparent to me by his general manner, 
and the consciousness he must have possessed of his own 
advantages in the way of rank and fortune, as well as in 
having Herman Mordaunt’s good wishes. Oddly enough, in 
quitting my rival, and under circumstances so very peculiar, I 
was accidentally thrown into the presence of my mistress, and 
that, too, alone ! Anneke was the sole occupant of the little 
room in which the girls habitually staid, when I returned to 
it ; Guert having managed to induce Mary Wallace to walk 
with him in the court, the only place the ladies now pos- 
sessed for exercise ; while Herman Mordaunt, Mr. Worden, 
and Dirck, were together in the public-room, making some 
arrangement with the confused body of the settlers, who had 
crowded into the Nest, for the night-watch. I shall not stop 
to express the delight I felt at finding Anneke there ; nor was 
it in any degree diminished, as I met the soft expression of 
her sweet eyes, and saw the blushes that suffused her cheek. 
The conversation I had just held, doubtless, had its effect; 
for I determined, at once, that so favourable an occasion for 
pressing my suit should not be lost. I was goaded on, if the 
truth must be told, by apprehension of Bulstrode’s wound. 

What 1 said precisely, in the commencement of that in- 
terview, is more than I could record, did I think it would 
redound to my advantage, as I fear it would not ; but I made 
myself understood, which is more, I fancy, than happens to 
all lovers in such scenes. At first I was confesed and a 
little incoherent, I suspect; but feeling so far got the better 


S AT ANSTOE. 


411 




of these defects, as to enable me to utter what I wished to 
express. Towards the end, if I spoke in the least as warmly 
and distinctly as I felt, there must have been some slight 
touch of eloquence about my manner and language. This 
being the first occasion, too, on which I had ever had an 
opportunity of urging my suit very directly, there was so 
much to be said, so many things to be explained, and so 
many seemingly slighted occasions to account for, that An- 
neke had little else to do, for the first ten minutes, but to listen. 
I have always ascribed the self-possession which my com- 
panion was enabled to command during the remainder of 
this interview, to the time that was thus accorded her to rally 
her thoughts. 

Dear, precious Anneke ! How admirably did she behave 
that memorable night ! It was certainly an extraordinary 
situation in which to speak of love ; yet, I much question 
if the feelings be not more likely to be true and natural at 
such times, than when circumstances admit of more of the 
expedients of every-day life. I could see that my sweet 
listener was touched, from the moment I commenced, and 
that her countenance betrayed a tender interest in what I 
said. Presuming on this, or encouraged by her blushes and 
her downcast eyes, I ventured to take a hand, and perceived I 
was not repulsed. Then it was that I found words, that 
actually brought tears to my companion’s eyes, and Anneke 
was enabled to answer me. 

“ This is so unusual — so extraordinary a time to speak 
of such things, Corny,” she said, “ that I hardly know what 
ought to be my reply. Of one thing, however, I feel cer- 
tain ; persons surrounded as we are by dangers that may, 
at any instant, involve our destruction, have an unusual de- 
mand on them for sincerity. Affectation, I hope, I am never 
much addicted to, and prudery I know you would condemn. 
I have a feeling uppermost, at this instant, that I wish to 
express, yet scarce know how — ” 

“ Do not suppress it, beloved Anneke ; be as generous as 
I am certain you are sincere.” 

“ Corny, it is this. I know we are in danger — very 
great danger of being overcome ; captured, perhaps slain, 
by the ruthless beings who are prowling around our dwell- 
ing, and that no one in this house can count on a single day 


412 


SATANSTOE. 


of existence even with the ordinary vain security of man. 
Now, should anything befall you, after this, and I survive 
you, I should survive for the remainder of my days to mourn 
your loss, and to feel the keenest regrets that I had hesitated 
to own how much interest I have long felt in you, and how 
happy I have been with the consciousness of the preference 
that you so frankly and honestly avowed in my favour, 
months ago.” 

As the tears, as well as blushes of Anneke, accompanied 
these admissions, it was not possible for me to doubt what I 
heard. From that moment, a world of confidence, and a 
flow of pure, sweet, strong, natural feeling, bound us more 
and more closely together. Guert was in a happy mood to 
detain Mary Wallace, and business greatly befriended me, 
as respected the others. More than an hour had I Anne 
Mordaunt all to myself; and when the heart is open, how 
much can be uttered and understood, on such a subject as 
love, in an hour of unreserved confidence, and of strong 
feeling ! Anneke admitted to me, before we separated, that 
she had often thought of the chivalrous boy, who had volun- 
teered to do battle in her behalf, when she was little more 
than a child herself, and thought of him as a generous- 
minded girl would be apt to think of a lad, under the cir- 
cumstances. This very early preference had been much 
quickened and increased by the affair of the lion, and our 
subsequent intercourse. Bulstrode, that formidable, encou- 
raged rival, encouraged by her father if not by herself, had 
never interested her in the least, beyond the feeling natural 
to the affinity of blood ; and I might have spared myself 
many hours of anxious concern, on his account, could I 
only have seen what was now so unreservedly told to me. 
Poor Bulstrode ! a feeling of commiseration came over me, 
as I listened to my companion’s assurances that he had 
never in the least touched her heart, while, at the same time, 
blushing very red, she confessed my own power over it. 
An expression to this effect even escaped her aloud — 

“ Have no concern on Mr. Bulstrode’s account, Corny,” 
Anneke answered, smiling archly, like one who had well 
weighed the pros and cons of the whole subject, in her own 
mind ; “ he may be a little mortified, but his fancy will soon 
be forgotten in rejoicing that he had not yielded to a passing 


S AT ANSTOE . 


413 


inclination, and connected himself with a young, inexpe- 
rienced American girl, who is hardly suited to move in the 
circles in which his wife must live — I do believe Mr. Bui- 
strode prefers me, just now, to any other female he may 
happen to know ; but his attachment, if it deserve the name, 
has not the heart in it, dear Corny, that I know is to be 
found in your’s. We women are said to be quick in disco- 
vering when we are really loved, and I confess that my 
own little experience inclines me to believe that the remark 
does us no more than justice.” 

I then spoke of Guert, and expressed a hope that his sin- 
cere, obvious, manly devotion, might finally touch her heart, 
and that my new friend, towards whom, however, I began 
already to feel as towards an old friend, might finally meet 
with a return for a passion that I was persuaded was as 
deep and as sincere as my own ; a comparison that I felt 
was as strong as any I could make in Guert’s behalf. 

“ On this subject, you are not to expect me to say much, 
Corny,” answered Anneke, smiling. “ Every woman is the 
mistress of her own secrets on such a subject ; and, did I 
know fully Mary Wallace’s mind or wishes in reference to 
Mr. Ten Eyck, as I do not profess to know either, I should 
not feel at liberty to betray her, even to you. I have no 
longer any secret of my own, as respects Corny Littlepage, 
but must not be expected to be as weak in betraying my 
whole sex, as I have been in betraying myself!” 

I was obliged to be satisfied with this sweet admission 
and with the knowledge that I had been long loved. When 
Anneke left me, which, at the expiration of more than an 
hour, she insisted on doing, under the consciousness of all 
that had passed between us, I had a good deal of difficulty 
in believing that I was not dreaming. This ecclaircissement 
was so sudden, so totally unexpected I fancy to us both, 
that well might it so seem to either ; yet, I fancy we did not 
part without a deep conviction that both were happier than 
when we met. I solemnly declare, notwithstanding, that I felt 
sorrow, almost regret, on behalf of Bulstrode. The poor 
fellow had been so evidently confident of success, only an 
hour or two before, that I could not have acquainted him 
with my own success, had he been up, and able to prefer 
35 * 


4 


414 


SATANSTOE. 


his own suit ; in his actual situation, such a procedure would 

have appeared brutal. 

As for Guert Ten Eyck, he rejoined me sadder and more 
despairing than ever. 

“ It struck me, Corny, that if Mary Wallace had the 
smallest inclination in my behalf, she would manifest it at a 
moment when we may all be said to be hanging between life 
and deat\ I have often heard it said that the woman who 
would trifle with a young fellow at a ball, or on a sleigh- 
ride, and use him like a dog, while every one was laughing 
and making merry, would come round like one of the wea- 
ther-cocks on our Dutch barns, at a shift of the wind, the 
instant that distress or unhappiness alighted on her suitor. 
In other worts, that the very girl who would be capricious 
and uncertain, in happiness and prosperity, would suddenly 
become tender and truthful, as soon as sorrow touched the 
man who wished to have her. On the strength of this, then, 
I thought I would urge Mary, to the best of my poor abili- 
ties, and you know they are no great matter, Corny, to give 
me only a glimmering of hope ; but without success. Not a 
syllable more could I get out of her than that the time was 
unseasonable to talk of such things ; and I do think I should 
be ready to go and meet these Huron devils, hand to hand, 
were it not for the fact that the very girl who thus remon- 
strated, staid with me quite two hours, listening to what I 
had to say, though I spoke of nothing else. There was a 
crumb of comfort in that, lad, or I do not understand human 
nature.” 

There was, truly. Still, I could not but compare Anne 
Mordaunt’s generous confessions, under the influence of the 
same facts, and fancy that the prospects of the simple- 
minded, warm-hearted, manly young Albanian, were far less 
flattering than my own. 


S AT ANSTOE . 


415 


^ ' 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

“ Between two worlds life hovers like a star, 

’Twixt night and morn, upon the horizon’s verge: 

How little do we know that which we are ! 

How less what we may be ! The eternal surge 
Of time and tide rolls on, and bears afar 
Our bubbles : as the old burst, new emerge, 

Lashed from the foam of ages ; while the graves 
Of empires heave but like some passing wave. 

Byroit. 

It was now announced by Herman Mordaunt in person, 
that the watch was set for the night, and that each man 
might seek his rest. The crowded state of the Nest was 
such, as to render it no easy matter to find a place in which 
to sleep, straw being our only beds. At length we found our 
pallets, such as they were ; and, spite of all that had passed 
that evening, truth compels me to admit that I was soon in 
a profound sleep. There was no exception to this rule 
among the Mooseridge party, I believe, fatigue proving to 
to be more powerful, than either successful love, unsuccessful 
love, or personal apprehension. 

It was about three o’clock, when I felt a significant pres- 
sure of the arm, such as one gives when he especially 
wishes to attract attention. It was Jason Newcome, em- 
ployed in awakening the men of the house, without giving 
such an alarm as might reach the ears without. In a few 
minutes everybody was up and armed. 

As the morning, just before the appearance of light, when 
sleep is heaviest, is the hour when savages usually attack, no 
one was surprised at these preparations, which were under- 
stood to be ordered by Herman Mordaunt, who was afoot, 
and on the look-out himself, at a place favourable to obser- 
vation. In the mean time, we men, three or four-and-twenty 
in all, assembled in the court, in waiting for a summons to 
the gate, or the loop. Jason had executed his trust so dex- 
terously, that neither female nor child knew anything of 
our movement ; all sleeping, or seeming to sleep in the se- 
curity of a peaceful home. I took an occasion to compli- 


410 


SATANSTOB. 


ment the ex-pedagogue and new miller, on the skill he had 
shown ; and we fell into a low discourse, in consequence. 

“ I have been thinking that this warfare may put a new 
face on these settlements, Corny,” continued Jason, after 
we had conversed some little time, “ more especially as to 
the titles.” 

“ I cannot see how they are to be afFected, Mr. Newcome, 
unless the French should happen to conquer the colony, a 
thing not very likely to happen.” 

“ That ’s just it ; exactly what I mean, as to principle. 
Have not these Hurons conquered this particular settlement ? 
I say they have. They are in possession of the whull of it, 
this house excepted ; and it appears to me that if we ever 
get re-possession, it will be by another conquest. Nowq 
what I want to know is this — does not conquest give the 
conquerors a right to the conquered territory ? I have no 
books here, yet ; but I ’m dreadful forgetful, or I have read 
that such is the law.” 

I may say that this was the first direct demonstration that 
Jason ever made on the property of Herman Mordaunt. Since 
that time he has made many more, some of which I, or he who 
may be called on to continue this narrative, will probably 
relate ; but I wish to record, here, this as the first in a long 
series of attempts which Jason Newcome has practised, in 
order to transfer the fee-simple of the mill-lot at Ravens- 
nest, from the ownership of those in whom it is vested by 
law, to that of his own humble, but meritorious person. 

I had little time to answer this very singular sort of rea- 
soning ; for, just then, Herman Mordaunt appeared among us, 
and gave us serious duty to perform. The explanations with 
which his orders were preceded, were these. As had been 
anticipated, the Indians had adopted the only means that 
could prove effective against such a fortress as the Nest 
without the aid of artillery. They were making their pre- 
parations to set the building on fire, and had been busy all 
night in collecting a large amount of pine-knots, roots, &c., 
which they had succeeded in piling against the outer logs, 
at the point where one wing touched the cliff, and where the 
formation of the ground enabled them to approach the build- 
ing without incurring much risk. Their mode of proceeding 
is worthy of being related. One of the boldest and most 


SAT ANSTOE. 


417 


skilful of their number had crept to the spot, and postod 
himself so close to the logs as to be safe from observation, 
as well as reasonably safe from shot. His associates had 
then extended to him one end of a long pole, they standing 
below, some on a shelf of the cliff, and the rest on the 
ground ,* all being safe from harm so long as they kept close 
to their respective covers. Thus disposed, these children of 
the forest passed hours in patient toil, in forwarding by 
means of a basket, the knots, and other combustibles, up to 
the warrior, who kept his position close under the building, 
and who piled them in the way most favourable to his object. 

Susquesus had the merit of discovering the projected at- 
tempt, the arrangements for which had completely escaped 
the vigilance of the sentinels. It would seem that the Onon- 
dago, aware of the artifices of the red-man, and acquainted 
in particular with the personal character of Jaap’s friend, 
Muss, did not believe the night would go by without some 
serious attempt on the house. The side of the cliff was 
much the weakest point of the fortress, having no other 
protection than the natural obstacles of the rocks, which 
were not inaccessible, though somewhat difficult of ascent, 
and the low picketing, already mentioned. Under such 
circumstances, the Indian felt certain the assault would be 
made on that side. Placing himself on watch, therefore, he 
discovered the first attempts of the Hurons, but did not let 
.them be known to Herman Mordaunt, until they were 
nearly completed ; his reason for the delay being the impa- 
tience of the pale-faces, which would not have suffered the 
enemy to accomplish his object, so far as preparations were 
concerned ; the thing of all others he himself thought to be 
the most desirable. By allowing the Hurons to waste their 
time and strength in making arrangements for an assault that 
was foreseen, and which might be met and defeated, a great 
advantage was obtained ; whereas, by driving them prema- 
turely from an artifice they were known to be engaged in, 
they would have recourse to another, and the difficulty of 
discovery would be added to our other disadvantages. So 
Susquesus reasoned, as was said at the time ; and it is cer- 
tain that so he acted. 

But, the time had come to meet these covert preparations. 
Herman Mordaunt now held a consultation, on the subject 


418 


SATANSTOE. 


of our proceedings. The question submitted was, whether 
we ought to let the Hurons go any further; whether we 
should shoot the adventurous savage who was known still 
to be posted under the logs of the house, and scatter his pile 
of knots, by a sortie ; or, whether it were wiser to let the 
enemy proceed to the extremity of actually lighting his fire, 
before we unmasked. Something was to be said in favour 
of each plan. By shooting the savage who had made a 
lodgment under our walls, and scattering his pile, we should 
unquestionably defeat the present attempt ; but, in all pro- 
bability, another would be made the succeeding night ; 
whereas, by waiting to the last moment, such an effectual 
repulse might be given to our foes, as would at once termi- 
nate their expedition. 

On consultation, and weighing all the points as they 
offered, it was decided to adopt the latter policy. But one 
spot commanded a view of the pile at all, and that was a 
loop, that had been cut only the day before, and which 
looked directly down on the place, from a projection that 
existed in the second story, and which ran around the whole 
building. These projections were common enough, in the 
architecture of the provinces at that day, being often adopted 
in exposed positions, purposely to afford the means of pro- 
tecting the inferior and external portions of the dwellings. 
The Nest possessed this advantage, though the loops neces- 
sary to complete the arrangement, had only quite recently 
been cut. At this loop, then, I stationed myself, for a short 
time, watching what was going on below. The night was 
dark, but there was no difficulty in distinguishing the pile 
of knots, which to me seemed several feet high, besides 
being of some length, or in noting the movements of the 
Indian who had built it. At the moment I took my stand 
at the loop, this man was actually engaged in setting fire 
to his combustibles. 

For several minutes Guert and I watched our enemy 
while he was thus employed, for the Huron was obliged to 
proceed with the utmost caution, lest a light prematurely 
shed around should betray him. He cautiously lighted his 
knots quite within the pile, having left a place for that pur- 
pose ; and his combustibles were well in flames before the 
latter began to throw their rays to any distance. We had a 


SA TANS TOE. 


419 


quantity o(‘ water provided in the room from which we be- 
held all these movements, and might at any time have ex- 
tinguished the fire, by pouring a stream through our loop, 
provided we did not wait too long. But Guert objected to 
4 spoiling the sport,’ as he called it, insisting that the logs 
of the house would be slow to ignite, and that we might at 
any moment scatter the knots, by a rapid sortie. His wish 
was to let the enemy proceed in his designs, as far as would 
be at all safe, in order to render his defeat more overwhelm- 
ing. 

Owing to our position, directly over his head, we had no 
chance to see the face of the incendiary while he was thus 
engaged. At length he cast a glance upward, as if to note 
the effect of the flames, which were beginning to throw their 
forked tongues above the pile, when we both recognised 
Jaap’s prisoner, Muss. The sight proved too much for 
Guert’s philosophy, and thrusting the muzzle of his rifle 
through the loop, he blazed away at him, without much re- 
gard to aim. This report was a sort of signal for action, 
the whole house, and all the outer world appearing to be in 
a clamour in an instant. I had no means of seeing Muss, 
but some of our look-outs, who had him in view most of the 
time, told me, after all was over, that the fellow seemed 
much astonished at the suddenness of this assault ; that he 
gazed up at the loop an instant, uttered a loud exclamation, 
then yelled the war-whoop at the top of his voice, and went 
bounding off into the darkness, like a buck put up unex- 
pectedly from his lair. The fields all around the Nest 
seemed to be alive with whooping demons. Herman Mor- 
daunt had done little towards embellishing the place ; ana 
stumps were standing in hundreds all about it, many having 
been left within twenty yards of the buildings. It now 
seemed as if every one of these stumps had an Indian war- 
rior lodged behind it, while bands of them appeared to be 
leaping about in the gloom, under the rocks. At one time, 
I fancied we must be surrounded by hundreds of these ruth- 
less foes, though I now suppose that their numbers were 
magnified by their activity and their infernal yells. They 
manifested no intention to attack, nevertheless, but kept 
screaming around us in all directions, occasionally dis- 


420 


SATANSTOE. 


charging a rifle, but, as a whole, waiting the moment when 
the flames should have done their work. 

Considering the fearful circumstances in which he was 

O 

placed, Herman Mordaunt was wonderfully collected. For 
myself, I felt as if I had fifty lives to lose, Anneke being 
uppermost in my thoughts. The females, however, behaved 
uncommonly well ; making no noise, and using all the self- 
command they could assume, in order not to distract the 
exertions of their husbands and friends. Some of the wives 
of the sturdy settlers, indeed, actually exhibited a species 
of stern courage that would have done credit to soldiers ; 
appearing in the court, armed, and otherwise rendering 
themselves useful. It often happened that women of this 
class, by practising on deer, and wolves, and bears, got to 
be reasonably expert with fire-arms, and did good service 
in attacks on their dwellings. I remarked, in all the com- 
moner class of females, that night, a sort of fierce hostility 
to their savage foes, in whom they doubtless saw only the 
murderers of children, and wretches who made no distinc- 
tion of sex or age, in pursuing their heartless warfare. 
Many of them appeared like the dams of the inferior ani- 
mals when their young were in danger. 

An interval of ten or fifteen minutes must have occurred 
between the moment when Guert discharged his rifle and 
that in which the battle really began. All' this time the fire 
was gathering head, our tardy attempts to extinguish it 
proving a complete failure. But little apprehension was felt 
on this account, however, the flames proving an advantage, 
by casting their light far into the fields, and even below the 
rocks, while they did not reach the court at all ; thus placing 
a portion of the enemy, should they venture to attack, under 
a bright light, while it left us in darkness. The only point, 
however, at which we could fear a serious assault, was on 
the side of the rocks, where the court had no other protec- 
tion than the low, but close and tolerably strong picket. 
Fortunately, the formation of the ground on that side pre- 
vented one who stood on the meadows below from firing into 
the court from any point within the ordinary range of the 
rifle. It was this circumstance that had determined the site 
of the garrison. 

Such was the state of things when Anneke’s own girl 




SA'l’ANSTOE. 


421 


came to ask me to go to her mistress, if it were possible for 
me to quit my station, were it only for a minute. Having 
no particular duty to perform, there was no impropriety in 
complying with a request which, in itself, was every way so 
grateful to my feelings. Guert was near me at the time, 
and heard what the young negress said ; this induced him to 
inquire if there was no message for himself; but, even at 
that serious moment, Mary Wallace did not relent. She 
had been kinder than common in manner, the previous 
night, as the Albanian had admitted ; but, at the same time, 
she had appeared to distrust her own resolution so much, as 
even to give less direct encouragement than had actually 
escaped her on previous occasions. 

I found Anneke expecting me in that little parlour where 
I had so recently listened to her sweet confessions of tender- 
ness the evening before. She was alone, the instinct of her 
sex teaching her the expediency of having no witness of the 
feelings and language that might escape two hearts that 
were united as were ours, under circumstances so trying. 
The dear girl was pale as death when I entered ; she had 
doubtless been thinking of the approaching conflict, and of 
what might be its frightful consequences ; but, my presence 
instantly caused her face to be suffused with blushes, it be- 
ing impossible for her sensitive mind not to revert to what 
had so lately occurred. This truth to the instinctive princi- 
ple of her nature could hardly be extinguished in woman, 
even at the stake itself. Notwithstanding the liveliness and 
varying character of her feelings, Anneke was the first to 
speak. 

“ I have sent for you, Corny,” she said, laying a hand on 
her heart, as if to quiet its throbbings, “ to say one word in 
the way of caution — I hope it is not wrong.” 

“ You can do nothing wrong, beloved Anneke,” I an- 
swered ; “ or, nothing that would seem so in my eyes. Be 
not thus agitated. Your fears have increased the danger, 
which we consider as trifling. The risks Guert, Dirck, and 
myself have already run, are tenfold those which now beset 
us.” 

The dear girl submitted to have an arm of mine passed 
around her waist, when her head dropped on my breast, 
and she burst into tears. Enabled by this relief to command 

36 


422 


SATANSTOE. 


her feelings a little, it was not long ere Anneke raised herself 
from the endearing embrace I felt impelled to give her, 
though still permitting me to hold both her hands ; and she 
looked up into my face, with the full confidence of affection, 
renewing the discourse. 

“ I could not suffer you to engage in this terrible scene, 
Corny,” she said, without one word, one look, one sign of 
the interest I feel in you. My dear, dear father has heard 
all ; and, though disappointed, he does not disapprove. You 
know how warmly he has wished Mr. Bulstrode for a son, 
and can excuse that preference ; but he desired me, not ten 
minutes since, as he left me, after giving me a kiss and his 
blessing, to send for you, and to say that he shall hereafter 
look upon you as my and his choice. Heaven alone knows 
whether we are to be permitted to meet again, dear Corny; 
but, should that never be granted us, I feel it will relieve 
your mind to know that we shall meet as the members of 
one family.” 

“ We are the only children of our parents, Anneke, and 
our union will gladden their hearts almost as much as it can 
gladden our own.” 

“ I have thought of this, already. I shall have a mother, 
now ; a blessing I hardly ever knew !” 

“And one that will dearly, dearly love you, as I know 
by her own opinions, again and again expressed in my pre- 
sence.” 

“ Thank you, Corny — and thanks to that respected parent, 
too. Now, go, Corny ; I am fearful this selfish gratification 
only adds to the danger of the house — go ; I will pray for 
your safety.” 

“ One word, dearest ; — poor Guert ! — You cannot know 
how disappointed he is, that I alone should be summoned 
here, at such a moment.” 

Anneke seemed thoughtful, and it struck me she was a 
little distressed. 

“ What can I do to alter this ?” she said, after a short 
pause. “A woman’s judgment and her feelings may not 
impel her the same way; then Mary Wallace is a girl who 
appreciates propriety so highly !” 

“ I understand you, Anneke. But, Guert is of so noble 
a disposition, and acknowledges all his defects so meekly, 


S AT ANSTOE. 


423 


and with so much candour ! Man cannot love woman bet- 
ter than he loves Mary Wallace. Her extreme prudence is 
a virtue, in his eyes, even while he suffers by it.” 

• “ I cannot change Mary Wallace’s nature, Corny,” said 
Anneke, smiling sadly, and, as I fancied, in a way tha(*said 
‘ were it I, the virtues of Guert should soon outweigh his 
defects “ but Mary will be Mary, and we must submit. 
Perhaps to-morrow may bring her wavering mind to some- 
thing like decision ; for these late events have proved greatly 
Mr. Ten Eyck’s friends. But Mary is an orphan, and pru- 
dence has been taught her as her great protection. Now, 
go, Corny, lest you be missed.” 

The dear girl parted from me hurriedly, but not without 
strong manifestation of feeling. I folded her to my heart ; 
that being no moment for affectations or conventional dis- 
tance ; and I know I was, while I trusted Anneke might be, 
none the less happy for remembering we had exchanged these 
proofs of mutual attachment. 

Just as I reached the court, I heard a yell without, which 
my experience before Ty had taught me was the whoop the 
Hurons give when they attack. A rattling fire succeeded, 
and we were instantly engaged in a hot conflict. Our people 
fought under one advantage, which more than counter- 
balanced the disadvantage of their inferiority in numbers. 
While two sides of the buildings, including that of the 
meadows, or the one on which an assault could alone be 
successful, were in bright light, the court still remained 
sufficiently dark to answer all the purposes of defence. We 
could see each other, but could not be distinguished at any 
distance. Our persons, when seen from without, must 
have been confounded, too, with the waving shadows of the 
pickets. 

As I approached the pickets, through the openings of 
which our people were already keeping up a dropping fire 
on the dark-looking demons who were leaping about on the 
meadows below, I learned from Herman Mordaunt, himself, 
who received me by an affectionate squeeze of the hand, 
that a large body of the enemy was collected directly under 
the rocks, and that Guert had assumed the duty of dislodg- 
ing them. He had taken with him, on this service, Dirck, 
Jaap, and three or four more of the best men, including both 


424 


% 


SATANSTOE. 

of our Indians. The manner in which he proposed to effect 
this object was bold, and like the character of the leader of 
the party. As so much depended on it, and on its success, 
1 will explain a few of its more essential details. 

The front of the house ranged north and south, facing 
westward. The two wings, consequently, extended east 
and west. The fire had been built at the verge of the cliff, 
and at the north-east angle of the building. This placed the 
north and east sides of the square in light, while it left the 
west and south in deep darkness. The gate opening to the 
west, it was not a very hopeless thing to believe it practi- 
cable to lead a small party round the south-west angle of 
the house, to the verge of the cliff, where the formation of 
the ground would allow of a volley’s being given upon those 
savages who were believed to be making a lodgment directly 
beneath our pickets, with a view of seizing a favourable 
moment to scale them. On this errand, then, Herman Mor- 
daunt now gave me to understand my friends had gone. 

“ Who guards the gate, the while ?” I asked, almost in- 
stinctively. 

“ Mr. Worden, and your old acquaintance and my new 
tenant, Newcome. They are both armed, for a parson will 
not only fight the battles of the spirit, but he will fight 
those of the field, when concerned. Mr. Worden has shown 
himself a man in all this business.” 

Without replying, I left Herman Mordaunt, and proceed- 
ed to the gate myself, since there was little to be done in the 
court. There we were strong enough ; stronger, perhaps, 
than was necessary ; but I greatly distrusted Guert’s scheme, 
the guard at the gate, and most of all the fire. 

I was soon at Mr. Worden’s side. There the reverend 
gentleman was, sure enough, with Jason Newcome at his 
elbow. Their duty was to keep the gate in that precise con- 
dition in which it could be barred, or unbarred, at the short- 
est notice, as friends or foesr might seek admission. The 
parties appeared to be fully aware of the importance of the 
trust they filled, and I asked permission to pass out. My 
first object was the fire, for it struck me Herman Mordaunt 
felt too much confidence in his means of extinguishing it, 
and that our security had been neglected in that quarter. I 
was no sooner outside the buildings, therefore, than I turned 


SATANSTOE. 425 

to steal along the wall to the northwest corner, where alone 
I could get a view of the dangerous pile. 

The brightness of the glare that was gleaming over the 
fields and stumps, that came within the compass of the light 
from the fire, added to my security by the contrast, though 
it did not tell well for that particular source of danger. The 
dark stumps, many of which were charred by the fires of 
the clearing, and were absolutely black, seemed to oe danc- 
ing about in the fields, under the waving light, and twice I 
paused to meet imaginary savages ere I had gained the corner 
of the house. Each alarm, however, was idle, and I suc- 
ceeded, in obtaining the desired view. Not only were the 
knots burning fiercely, but a large sheet of flame was cling- 
ing to the logs of the house, menacing us with a speedy 
conflagration. The danger would have been greater, but a 
thunder-shower had passed over the settlement only an hour 
before we were alarmed, and coming from the north, all 
that side of the house had been well drenched with rain. 
This occurred after ‘ Muss’ had commenced his pile, or he 
might have chosen another side of the building. The deep 
obscurity of that gust, however, was probably one of the 
means of his success. He must have been at work during 
the whole continuance of the storm. 

I was not absent from the gate two minutes. That brief 
space was sufficient for my first purpose. I now desired 
Jason to enter the court, and to tell Herman Mordaunt not 
to delay a moment in applying the means for extinguishing 
the flames. There was greater danger from them than there 
possibly could be from any other attack upon the pickets, 
made in the darkness of the morning. Jason was cool by 
temperament, and he was a good agent to be employed on 
such a duty. Promising to be quick, he left us, and 1 turn- 
ed my face towards Guert and his party. As yet, nothing 
had been heard of the last. This very silence was a source 
of alarm, though it was difficult to imagine the adventurer 
had met with an enemy, since such a collision must have 
been somewhat noisy. A few scattering shot, all of which 
came from the west side of the buildings, and the flickering 
light of the fire, were the only interruptions to the otherwise 
death-like calm of the hour. 

The same success attended me in reaching the south-west 

36 * 


426 


S AT ANSTOE. 


as in reaching the north-west angle of the house. To me, 
it seemed as if the savages had entirely abandoned the fields 
in my vicinity. When 1 took my stand at this corner of the 
building, I found all its southern side in obscurity, though 
sufficient light was gleaming over the meadows to render the 
ragged edges of the cliff visible in that direction. I looked 
along the log walls to this streak of light, but could see no 
signs of my friends. I was certain they were not under the 
house, and began to apprehend some serious indiscretion on 
the part of the bold Albanian. While engaged in endeavour- 
ing to get a clue to Guert’s movements, by devouring every 
dark object I could perceive with my eyes, I felt an elbow 
touched lightly, and saw a savage in his half-naked, fighting 
attire, at my side. I could see enough to ascertain this, but 
could not distinguish faces. I was feeling for my hunting- 
knife, when the Trackless’s voice stayed my hand. 

“ He wrong” — said the Onondago, with emphasis. “ Head 
too young — hand good — heart good — head very bad. Too 
much fire — dark here — much better.” 

This characteristic criticism on poor Guert’s conduct, 
served to tell the whole story. Guert had put himself in 
a position in which the Onondago had refused to remain ; in 
other words, he had gone to the verge of the cliff, where he 
was exposed to the light of the fire, and^vhere he was ne- 
cessarily in danger of being seen. Still, no signs of him 
were visible, and I was on the point of moving along the 
south side of the building, to the margin of the rocks, when 
the Trackless again touched my arm, and said “ There!” 

There our party was, sure enough ! It had managed to 
reach the verge of the rocks at a salient point, which placed 
them in an admirable position for raking the enemy, who 
were supposed to be climbing to the pickets, with a view to 
a sudden spring, but at a dangerous distance from the build- 
ings. The darkness had been the means of their reaching 
that point, which was about a hundred yards from the spot 
where I had expected to find them, and admirably placed 
for the intended object. The whole procedure was so much 
like Guert’s character, that I could not but admire its bold- 
ness, while I condemned its imprudence. There was, how- 
ever, no time to join the party, or to warn its leader of the 
risks he ran. We, who stood so far in the rear, could see 


S AT ANSTOE. 


427 


and fully appreciate all the danger, while he probably diu 
not. There the whole party of them stood, plainly though 
darkly drawn in high relief, against the light beyond, each 
poising his rifle and making his dispositions for the volley. 
Guert was nearest to the verge of the rocks, actually bend- 
ing over them ; Dirck was close at his side ; Jaap just be- 
hind Dirck ; Jumper close at Jaap’s elbow ; and four of the 
settlers, bold and hardy men, behind the Oneida. 

I could scarcely breathe, for painful expectation, when I 
saw Guert and his companions thus rising from the earth, 
bringing their entire figures in front of the back-ground of 
light. I could have called out to warn them of the danger 
they ran ; but it would have done no good, nor was there 
time for remonstrances. Guert must have felt he occupied a 
dangerous position, and what he did was done very promptly. 
Ten seconds after I saw the dark forms, all their rifles were 
discharged, as it might be at a single crack. One instant 
passed, in death-like stillness, through all the fields, and in 
the court ; then came a volley from among the stumps at a 
little distance from our side of the building, avid the adven- 
turers on the rocks, or those that could, rushed towards the 
gate. Two of the settlers, however, and the Oneida, I saw 
fall, myself. The last actually leaped upward, into the air, 
and went down the cliff. But Guert, Dirck, Jaap, and the 
other two settlers, had moved away. It was at that moment 
that my ears were filled with such yells as I had not sup- 
posed the human throat could raise, and all the fields on our 
side of the house seemed alive with savages. To render the 
scene more appalling, that was the precise instant when the 
water, previously provided by Herman Mordaunt, fell upon 
the flames, and the light vanished, almost as one extin- 
guishes a candle. But for this providential coincidence, 
there was scarce a chance for the escape of one of the ad- 
venturers. As it was, rifle followed rifle, from among the 
stumps, though it was no longer with any certain aim. 

The battle had now become a melee. The savages went 
leaping and whooping forward in the darkness, and heavy 
blows were given and taken. Guert’s clear, manly voice 
was heard, rising above the clamour, encouraging his com- 
panions to press through the throng of their assailants, in 
tones full of confidence. Both the Trackless and myself 


428 


S AT ANSTOE. 


discharged our rifles at the foremost of the Hurons, and 
each certainly brought down his man ; but it was not easy 
to see what we could do next. To stand aloof and see my 
friends borne down by numbers was impossible, however, 
and Susquesus and myself fell upon the enemy’s rear.- This 
charge of ours had the appearance of a sortie, and it pro- 
duced a decided effect on the result, opening a passage by 
which Dirck and the two settlers issued from the throng, 
and joined us. This was no sooner done, than we all had 
to stand at bay, retreating little by little, as we could. The 
result would still have been doubtful, even after we had suc- 
ceeded in reaching the south-western angle of the building, 
had it not been for a forward movement on the part of Her- 
man Mordaunt, at the head of half-a-dozen of his settlers, 
This reinforcement came into the affair with loaded rifles, 
and a single discharge, given as soon as we were in a line 
with our friends, caused our assailants to vanish, as suddenly 
as they had appeared. On reflecting on the circumstances 
of that awful night, in after-life, I have thought that the 
force in the rear of the Hurons began to melt away, even 
before Herman Mordaunt’s support was received, leaving 
their front weak and unsustained. At any rate, the enemy 
fled to their covers, as has just been related, and we entered 
the gate in a body, closing and barring it, as soon as possible. 

I can scarcely describe the change that had come over 
the appearance of things in that eventful night. The fire 
was extinguished, even to the embers, and deep darkness 
had succeeded to the glimmering, waving red light of the 
flames. The yells, and whoops, and screams, and shouts, 
for our men had frequently thrown back the defiance of their 
foes in cheers, were done ; a stillness as profound as that of 
the grave reigning over the whole place. The wounded 
seemed ashamed even to groan ; but our hurt, of whom 
there were four, went into the house to be cared for, stern 
and silent. No enemy was any longer to be apprehended 
beneath the pickets, for the streak of morning was just ap- 
pearing above the forest, in the east, and Indians rarely 
attack under the light of day. In a word, that night, at 
least, was passed, and we were yet protected by Providence. 

Herman Mordaunt now bethought him of ascertaining his 
precise situation, the extent of his own loss, and, as far as 


S AT ANSTOE. 


429 


possible, of that which we had inflicted on the enemy. Guert 
was called for, to aid in this inquiry, but no Guert was to 
be found ! Jaap, too, was absent. A muster was had, and 
then it was found that Guert Ten Eyck, Jaap Satanstoe, 
Gilbert Davis, and Moses Mudge were all wanting. The 
Jumper, too, did not appear ; hut I accounted for him, and 
for the two settlers named, having actually seen them fall. 
Day returned to us slowly, while agitated by the effect of 
these discoveries ; but it brought no relief. We spon ven- 
tured to re-open the gates, knowing no Indian would remain 
very near the building, while it was light ; and, having ex- 
amined all the dangerous covers, we passed outside the court 
with confidence, in quest of the bodies of our friends. Not 
an Indian was seen, Jumper excepted. The Oneida lay at 
the foot of the rocks, dead, and scalped ; as did Davis and 
Mudge on the summit. Everything else human had dis- 
appeared. Dirck was confident that six or seven of the 
Hurons fell by the volley from the cliff, but the bodies had 
been carried off. As to Guert and Jaap, no traces of them 
remained, dead or alive. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

“ She looked on many a face with vacant eye, 

On many a token without knowing what ; 

She saw them watch her without asking why, 

And reck’d not who around her pillow sat ; 

Not speechless, though she spoke not ; not a sigh 
Relieved her thoughts : dull silence and quick chat 
Were tried in vain by by those who served ; she gave 
No sign, save breath, of having left the grave.” 

Byrok. 

It was a most painful moment to me, when Herman Mor- 
daunt, an hour after all these facts were established, came 
to summon me to the presence of Anneke and Mary Wal- 
lace. One gleam of joy, one ray of the sunshine of the 


430 


S AT ANSTOE. 


heart, shone on Anneke’s sweet countenance as she saw me 
unharmed enter the room, but it quickly disappeared in the 
strong sympathy she felt for the sufferings of her friend. 
As for Mary Wallace, death itself could hardly have left 
her more colourless, or with features more firmly impressed 
with the expression of mental suffering. Anneke was the 
first to speak. 

“ God be praised that this dreadful night is passed, and 
you and my dearest father are spared !” the precious girl 
said, with fervour, pressing the hand that had taken one of 
hers, in both her own. “ For this much, at least, we can 
be grateful ; would I could add for the safety of us all !” 

“ Tell me the worst at once, Mr. Littlepage,” added Mary 
Wallace ; “ I can bear anything better than uncertainty. Mr. 
Mordaunt says that you know the facts better than any one 
else, and that you must relate them. Speak, then, though 
it break my heart to hear it ! — is he killed ?” 

“ I hope, through Heaven’s mercy, not. Indeed, I think 
not ; though I fear he must be a prisoner.” 

“ Thank you for that, dear, dear Mr. Littlepage ! Oh ! 
Thank you for that, from the bottom of my heart. But 
may they not torture him ? Do not these Hurons torture 
their prisoners? Conceal nothing from me, Corny; you 
cannot imagine how much self-command I have, and how 
well I can behave. Oh ! conceal nothing.” 

Poor girl ! At the very moment she was boasting of her 
fortitude and ability to endure, her whole frame was trem- 
bling from head to foot, her face was of the hue of death, 
and the smile with which she spoke was frightfully haggard. 
That pent-up passion, which had so long struggled with her 
prudence, could no longer be suppressed. That she really 
loved Guert, and that her love would prove stronger than 
her discretion, I had not doubted, now, for some months ; 
but, never having before witnessed the strength of any feel- 
ing that had been so long and so painfully suppressed, I con- 
fess that this exhibition of a suffering so intense, in a being 
so delicate, so excellent, and so lovely, almost unmanned 
me. I took Mary Wallace’s hand and led her to a chair, 
scarce knowing what to say to relieve her mind. All this 
time, her eye never turned from mine, as if she hoped to 
learn the truth by the aid of the sense of sight alone. How 


SATANSTOE. 431 

anxious, jealous, distrustful, and yet beseeching was that 
gaze ! 

“Will he be tortured 'J” She rather whispered huskily, 
than asked aloud. 

“ 1 trust, by God’s mercy, not. They have taken my 
slave, Jaap, also; and it is far more probable that he would 
be the victim, in such a case, than Mr. Ten Eyck ” 

“Why do you call him Mr. Ten Eyck? You have al- 
ways called him Guert, of late — you are his friend — you 
think well of him — you cannot be less his friend, now that 
he is miserable, than when he was happy, and the pride of 
all human eyes, in his strength and manly beauty 1” 

“Dear Miss Wallace, compose yourself, I do entreat of 
you— no one will cling to Guert longer than I.” 

“Ifes; I have always thought this — always felt this. 
Guert cannot be low, or mean in his sentiments, while an 
educated gentleman, like Corny Littlepage, is his friend. 
I have written to my aunt, and we must not be too hasty in 
our judgments. The spirit and follies of youth will soon 
be over, and then we shall see a shining character in Guert 
Ten Eyck. Is not this true, Anneke?” 

Anneke knelt at the side of her friend, folded her in her 
arms, drew the quivering head down upon her own sympa- 
thizing bosom, and held it there a moment, in the very atti- 
tude of protecting, solacing love. After a brief pause, Ma- 
ry Wallace burst into tears, and I have ever thought that 
that relief, under God’s mercy, saved her reason. In a few 
minutes, the sufferer became more calm, when she retired 
into herself, as was her wont, leaving Anneke and me to 
discuss the subject. 

After turning all the chances and probabilities in our 
minds, I promised my companions not to lose a moment, .but 
to use immediate means of ascertaining all that could be 
ascertained, in Guert’s behalf, and of doing everything that 
could be done, to save him. 

“You will not deceive me, Corny,” whispered Mary Wal- 
lace, pressing my hand at leave-taking, in both her own. 
“ I know I can depend on you , for he boasts of being your 
friend.” 

Anneke’s painful smile added force to this request, and I 
tore myself away unwilling to quit such a sufferer, yet urn 


4i?2 


SATANSTOE. 


able to- remain. Herman Mordaunt was seen conversing 
with Susquesus, in the court, and I joined him at once, de* 
termined to. lose no time. 

“ I was speaking to the Trackless on this very subject,’' 
answered Herman Mordaunt, as soon as I had explained rav 
purpose, “ and am now waiting for his answer. Do you 
think it, then, safe to send a messenger out to the Hurons, 
in order to inquire after our friends, and to treat with 
them !” 

“No send? — Why not?” returned the Indian. “Red 
man glad to see messenger. Go when he want ; come 
back when he want. How can make bargain, if scalp mes 
senger ?” 

I had heard that the most savage tribes respected a mes- 
senger ; and, indeed, the necessity of so doing was, of itself, 
a sort of security that such must be the case. It was true, 
that the bearer of a flag might be in more danger, on such 
an errand, than would be the case in a camp of civilized 
men ; but these Canada-Indians had been long serving with 
the French, and their chiefs, beyond a question, had ob- 
tained some of the notions of pale-face warfare. Without 
much reflection, therefore, and under an impulse in behalf 
of my friend, and my slave — for Jaap’s fate was of lively 
interest with me — I volunteered to bear a flag myself. 
Herman Mordaunt shook his head, and seemed reluctant to 
comply. 

“Anneke would hardly pardon me for consenting to that,” 
he answered. “ You must remember, now, Corny, that a 
very tender and sensitive heart is bound up in you, and 
you must no longer act like a thoughtless, single man. It 
would be far better to send this Onondago, if he will agree 
to go. He understands the red men, and will be able to 
interpret the omens with more certainty, than any of us. 
What say you, Susquesus ; will you be o. messenger to the 
Hurons ?” 

“ Sartain ; — why no go, if he want ? Good to be messen- 
ger, sometime. Where wampum — what tell him ?” 

Thus encouraged, we deliberated together, and soon had 
Susquesus in readiness to depart. As for the Indian, he laid 
aside all his arms, washed the war-paint from his face, put 
a calico shirt over his shoulders, and assumed the guise of 


SATANSTOE. 


433 


peace. We gave him a small, white flag to carry, feeling 
certain that the Huron chiefs must understand its meaning; 
and thinking it might be better, in bearing a message from 
pale-faces, that he who carried it should have a pale-face 
symbol of his errand. Susquesus found some wampum, too; 
having as much faith in that, probably, as in anything else. 
He then set forth, being charged to offer liberal ransom to 
the Hurons, for the living, uninjured bodies of Guert Ten 
Eyck and Jaap Satanstoe. 

We entertained no doubt that the enemy would be found 
in the ravine, for that was the point, in every respect, most 
favourable to the operations of the siege ; being near the 
house, having a perfect cover, possessing water, wood, and 
other conveniences. From that point the Nest could be 
watched, and any favourable chance improved. Thither, 
then, Susquesus was told to proceed ; though it was not 
thought advisable to fetter one so shrewd, with too many 
instructions. Several of us accompanied the Onondago to the 
gate, and saw him moving across the fields, towards the 
wood, in his usual loping trot. A bird could scarcely have 
flown more directly to its object. 

The half-hour that succeeded the disappearance of Sus- 
quesus, in the mouth of the ravine, was one of intensely 
painful suspense. We all remained without the gate, wait- 
ing the result, including Dirck, Mr. Worden, Jason, and 
half-a-dozen of the settlers. At length the Onondago re- 
appeared ; and, to our great joy, a group followed him, in 
which were both the prisoners. The last were bound, but 
able to walk. This party might have contained a dozen of 
the enemy, all of whom were armed. It moved slowly out 
of the ravine, and ascended to the fields that were on a level 
with the house, halting when about four hundred yards from 
us. Seeing this movement, we counted out exactly the 
same number of men, and went forward, halting at a dis- 
tance of two hundred yards from the Indians. Here we 
waited for our messenger, who continued on, after the 
Hurons had come to a stand. Thus far everything looked 
propitious. 

« Do you bring us good news?” Herman Mordaunt eagerly 
asked. “ Are aur friends unhurt?” 

37 


434 


S ATANSTOE. 


« Got scalp — no hurt — take prisoner — jump on ’em, ten, 
two, six — cotch ’em, then. Open eyes; you see.” 

“ And the Hurons — do they seem inclined to accept the 
ransom? Rum, rifle, blanket and powder; you ofFered all, 
I hope, Susquesus?” 

“ Sartain. No forget ; that bad. Say take all that ; some 
more, too.” 

“ And they have come to treat with us ? What are we to 
do, now, Susquesus?” 

“ Put down rifle — go near and talk. You go — priest go — 
young chief go — that t’ree. Then t’ree warrior lay down 
rifle, come talk, too. Prisoner wait. All good.” 

This was sufficiently intelligible, and believing that any- 
thing like hesitation might make the condition of Guert 
desperate, we prepared to comply. I could see that the 
Rev. Mr. Worden had no great relish for the business, but 
was ashamed to hang back when he saw Herman Mordaunt 
cheerfully advancing to the interview. We three were met 
by as many Hurons, among whom was Jaap’s friend ‘Muss,’ 
who was evidently the leading person of the party. Guert 
and Jaap were held, bound, about a hundred yards in the 
rear, but near enough to be spoken to, by raising the voice. 
Guert was in his shirt and breeches, with his head uncover- 
ed, his fine curly hair blowing about in the wind, and I 
thought I saw some signs of blood on his linen. This might 
be his own, or it might have come from an enemy. I called 
to him, therefore, inquiring how he did, and whether he were 
hurt. 

“ Nothing to speak of, Corny, I thank you,” was the 
cheerful answer; “these red gentlemen have had me tied to 
a tree, and have been seeing how near they could hurl their 
tomahawks without hitting. This is one of their customary 
amusements, and I have got a scratch or two in the spot*. 
I hope the ladies are in good spirits, and do not let the busi- 
ness of last night distress them.” 

“ There is blessed news for you, Guert — Susquesus, ask 
these chiefs if I may go near my friend to give him one 
word of consolation — on my honour, no attempt to release 
him will be made by me, until I return here.” 

I spoke earnestly, and the Onondago interpreted what I 
had said into the language of the Hurons. I had made this 


SATANSTOE. 


435 


somewhat hardy request, under an impulse that I found un- 
governable, and was surprised, as well as pleased, to find it 
granted. These savages confided in my word, and trusted 
to my honour with a stalely delicacy that might have done 
credit to the manners of civilized kings, giving themselves 
no apparent concern about my movements, although theyr 
occurred in their own rear. It was too late to retract, and, 
leaving Herman Mordaunt endeavouring to drive a bargain 
with Muss and his two companions, I proceeded, uncon- 
cerned myself, boldly towards the armed men who held 
Guert and Jaap prisoners. I thought my approach did 
cause a slight movement among these savages, and there 
was a question and answer passed between them and their 
leaders. The latter said but a word or two, but these were 
uttered authoritatively, and with a commanding toss of a 
hand. Brief as they were, they answered the purpose, and 
I was neither molested nor spoken to, during the short in- 
terview I had with my friend. 

“ God bless you, Corny, for this !” Guert cried with feel- 
ing, as I warmly shook his hand. “It requires a warm 
heart, and a bold one too, to lead a man into this ‘ lion’s 
den.’ Stay but a moment, lest some evil come of it, I beg 
of you. This squeeze of the hand is worth an estate to a 
man in my situation ; but remember Anneke. Ah ! Corny, 
my dear friend, I could be happy even here, did I know that 
Mary Wallace grieved for me !” 

“ Then be happy, Guert. My sole object in venturing 
here, was to tell you to hope everything in that quarter. 
There will be no longer any coyness, any hesitation, any 
misgivings, when you shall be once restored to us.” 

“ Mr. Littlepage, you would not trifle with the feelings of 
a miserable captive, hanging between torture and death, as 
is my present case ! I can hardly credit my senses ; yet, 
you would not mock me !” 

“ Believe all I say — nay, all you wish , Guert. It is sel- 
dom that woman loves as she loves, and this I swear to vou. 
I go now, only to aid Herman Mordaunt in bringing you 
where your own ears shall hear such proofs of what I say, 
as have been uttered in mine.” 

Guert made no answer, but I could see he was profoundly 
affected. I squeezed his hand, and we parted, in the full 


436 


SATANSTOE. 


hope, on my side at least, that the separation would be short. 
I have reason to think Guert shed tears ; for, on looking 
back, I perceived his face turned away from those who were 
nearest to him. I had but a single glance at Jaap, My 
fellow stood a little in the rear, as became his colour; but 
he watched my countenance with the vigilance of a cat. I 
thought it best not to speak to him, though I gave him a 
secret sign of encouragement. 

o o 

“ These chiefs are not very amicably disposed, Corny,” 
said Herman Mordaunt, the instant I rejoined him. “ They 
have given me to understand that Jaap will be liberated on 
po terms whatever. They must have his scalp, as Sus- 
quesus tells me, on account of some severity he himself has 
shown to one of these chiefs. To use their own language, 
they want it for a plaster to this warrior’s back. His fate, 
it would seem, is sealed, and he has only been brought out 
yonder, to raise hopes in him that are to be disappointed. 
The wretches do not scruple to avow this, in their own sen- 
tentious manner. As for Guert, they say he slew two of 
their warriors, and that their wives will miss their husbands, 
and will not be easily quieted unless they see his scalp, too. 
They ofFer to release him, however, on either of two sets of 
terms. They will give up Guert for two of what they call 
chiefs, or for four common men. If we do not like those 
conditions, they will exchange him, on condition we give 
two common men for him, and abandon the Nest to them, 
by marching out, with all my people, before the sun is up 
above our heads.” 

“ Conditions that you cannot accept, under any circum- 
stances, I fear, sir?” 

“ Certainly not. The delivery of any two is out of the 
question — would be so, even to save my own life. As for 
the Nest and its contents, I would very willingly abandon 
all, a few papers excepted, had I the smallest faith in the 
chiefs’ being able to restrain their followers ; but the dread- 
ful massacre of William-Henrv is still too recent, to confide 
in anything of the sort. My answer is given already, and 
we are about to part. Possibly, when they see us deter- 
mined, they may lower their demands a little.” 

A grave parting wave of the hand was given by Muss, 


S AT ANSTOE . 


437 


who had conducted himself with great dignity in the inter- 
view, and the three Hurons walked away in a body. 

“ Best go,” said Susquesus, significantly. “ Maybe want 
rifle. Hurons in ’arnest.” 

On this hint, we returned to our friends, and resumed our 
arms. What succeeded, I learned in part by the relations 
of others, while a part was witnessed by my own eyes. It 
seems that Jaap, from the first, understood the desperate 
nature of his own position. The remembrance of his mis- 
deeds in relation to Muss, whose prisoner he had more 
especially become, most probably increased his apprehen- 
sions, and his thoughts were constantly bent on obtaining 
his liberty, by means entirely independent of negotiation. 
From the instant he was brought out of the ravine, he kept 
all his eyes about him, watching for the smallest chance of 
effecting his purpose. It happened that one of the savages 
so placed himself before the negro, who was kept behind all 
near him, as to enable Jaap to draw the Huron’s knife from 
its sheath without being detected. He did this while I was 
actually with the party, and all eyes were on me. Guert 
and himself were bound, by having their arms fastened 
above the elbows, behind the back ; and when Guert turned 
aside to shed tears, as mentioned, Jaap succeeded in cutting 
his fastenings. This could be done, only while the savages 
were following my retreating form with their eyes. At the 
same time Jaap gave the knife to Guert, who did him a 
similar service. As the Indians did not take the alarm, the 
prisoners paused a moment, holding their arms as if still 
bound, to look around them. The Indian nearest Guert had 
two rifles, his own and that of Muss, both leaning negli- 
gently against his shoulder, with their breeches on the 
ground. To these weapons Guert pointed; and, when the 
three chiefs were on the point of rejoining their friends, who 
were attentive to their movements in order to ascertain the 
result, Guert seized this savage by his arm, which he twisted 
until the Indian yelled with pain, then caught one rifle, while 
Jaap laid hold of the other. Each fired and brought down 
his man ; then they made an onset with the butts of their 
pieces on the rest of the party. This bold assault, though so 
desperate in appearance, was the wisest thing they could 

do ; as immediate flight would have left their enemies an op- 
07 * 


438 


SAT ANSTOE. 


portunity of sending the swift runners of their pieces in 

pursuit. 

The first intimation we had of any movement of this sort 
was in the reports of the rifles. Then, I not only saw, but 
I heard the tremendous blow Jaap gave to the head of 
Muss; a blow that demolished both the victim and the in- 
strument of his destruction. Though the breech of the 
rifle was broken, the heavy barrel still remained, and the 
negro flourished it with a force that swept all before him. 
It is scarcely necessary to say Guert was not idle in such a 
fray. He fought for Mary Wallace, as well as for himself, 
and he overturned two more of the Indians, as it might be, 
in the twinkling of an eye. Here Dirck did good service 
to our friends. His rifle was in his hands, and, levelling it 
with coolness, he shot down a powerful savage who was on 
the point of seizing Guert from behind. This was the com- 
mencement of a general war, volleys now coming from both 
parties ; from ourselves, and from the enemy, who were in 
the cover of the woods. Intimidated by the fury of the 
personal assault under which they were suffering, the re- 
maining Indians near Guert and the negro leaped away to- 
wards their friends, yelling; leaving their late prisoners 
free, but more exposed to fire than they could have been 
when encircled even by enemies. 

Everything passed with fearful rapidity. Guert seized 
the rifle of a fallen Indian, and Jaap obtained another, 
when they fell back towards us, like two lions at bay, with 
rifle-bullets whizzing around them at every step. Of course, 
we fired, and we also advanced to meet them ; an imprudent 
step, since the main body of the Hurons were covered, ren- 
dering the contest unequal. But, there was no resisting the 
sympathetic impulses of such a moment, or the exultation 
we all felt at the exploits of Guert and Jaap, enacted, as 
they were, before our eyes. As we drew together, the for- 
mer shouted and cried — 

“ Hurrah ! Corny, my noble fellow — let us charge the 
woot — there’ll not be a reat-skin left in it, in five minutes. 
Forwart, my friends — forwart, all !” 

It certainly was an exciting moment. We all shouted 
m our turns, and all cried ‘ forward,’ in common. Even 
Mr. Worden joined in the shout, and pressed forward. Ja- 


S AT ANSTOE. 


439 


son, too, fought bravely ; and we went at the wood like so 
many bull-dogs. I fancy the pedagogue thought the fee- 
simple of his mills depended on the result. On we went, in 
open order, reserving our fire for the last moment, but re- 
ceiving dropping shots, that did us no harm, until we dashed 
into the thicket. 

The Hurons were discomfited, and they fled. Though a\ 
panic is not usual among those wild warriors, they seldom 
rally on the field. If once driven, against their will, a close 
pursuit will usually disperse them for a time ; and such was 
the case now. By the time I got fairly into the ravine, I 
could see or hear of no enemy. My friends were on my 
right and left, shouting and pressing on ; but there was no 
foe visible. Guert and Jaap were in advance, for we could 
not overtake them ; and they had fired, for they got the last 
glimpses of the enemy. But one more shot did come from 
the Hurons in that inroad. It was fired from some one of 
the retreating party, who must have been lingering in its 
rear. The report sounded far up the ravine, and it came 
like a farewell and final gun. Distant as it was, however, 
it proved the most fatal shot to us that was fired in all that 
affair. I caught a glimpse of Guert, through the trees, and 
saw him fall. In an instant, I was at his side. 

What a change is that from the triumph of victory to the 
sudden approach of death! I saw by the expression of 
Guert’s countenance, as I raised him in my arms, that the 
blow was fatal. The ball, indeed, had passed directly through 
his body, missing the bones, but injuring the vitals. There 
is no mistaking the expression of a death-wound on the 
human countenance, when the effect is direct and not re- 
mote. Nature appears to admonish the victim of his fate. 
So it was with Guert. 

“ This shot has done for me, Corny,” he said, “ and it 
seems to be the very last they intended to fire. I almost 
hope there can be no truth in what you told me of Mary 
Wallace !” 

That was neither the time nor the place to speak on such 
a subject, and I made no answer. From the instant the fall 
of Guert became known, the pursuit ceased, and our whole 
party collected around the wounded man. The Indian alone 
seemed to retain any consciousness of the importance of 


440 


SATANSTOE. 


knowing what the enemy was doing, for his philosophy was 
not easily disturbed by the sudden appearance of death 
among us. Still he liked Guert, as did every one who could 
get beyond the weaknesses of his outer character, and fairly 
at the noble traits of his manly nature. Susquesus looked 
at the sufferer a moment, gravely and not without concern; 
then he turned to Herman Mordaunt, and said — 

“ This bad — save scalp, that good, though. Carry him 
in house. Susquesus follow trail and see what Injin mean.” 

As this was well, he was told to watch the enemy, while 
we bore our friend towards the Nest. Dirck consented to 
precede us, and let the melancholy truth be known, while I 
continued with Guert, who held my hand the whole dis- 
tance. We were a most melancholy procession, for victors. 
Not a serious hurt had any of our party received, in this 
last affair, the wound of Guert Ten Eyck excepted ; yet, I 
question if more real sorrow would have been felt over two 
or three other deaths. We had become accustomed to our 
situation; it is wonderful how soon the soldier does ; ren- 
dering death familiar, and disarming him of half his terrors ; 
but calamities can, and do occur, to bring back an army to 
a sense of its true nature and its dependence on Providence. 
Such had been the effect of the loss of Lord Howe, on the 
troops before Ticonderoga, and such was the effect of the 
fall of Guert Ten Eyck, on the small band that was collect- 
ed to defend the possessions and firesides of Ravensnest. 

We entered the gate of the house, and found most of its 
tenants already in the court, collected like a congregation 
in a church that awaits the entrance of the dead. Herman 
Mordaunt had sent an order to have his own room prepared 
for the sufferer, and thither we carried Guert. He was 
placed on the bed; then the crowd silently withdrew. I 
observed that Guert’s eyes turned anxiously and inquiringly 
around, and I told him, in a low voice, I would go for the 
ladies myself. A smile, and a pressure of the hand, showed 
how well I had interpreted his thoughts. 

Somewhat to my surprise, I found Mary Wallace, pale ii 
is true, but comparatively calm and mistress of herself. 
That instinct of propriety which seems to form a part of the 
nature of a well-educated woman, had taught her the ne- 
cessity of self-command, that no outbreak of her feelings 


SATAN STOE . 


441 


should affect the sufferer. As for Anneke, she was like her- 
self, gentle, mourning, and full of sympathy for her friend. 

As soon as apprised of the object of my visit, the two 
girls expressed their readiness to go to Guert. As they 
knew the way, I did not attend them, purposely proceeding 
in another direction, in order not to be a witness of the in- 
terview. Anneke has since told me, however, that Mary’s 
self-command did not altogether desert her, while Guert’s 
cheerful gratitude probably so far deceived her as to create 
a short-lived hope that the wound was not mortal. For my- 
self, I passed an hour in attending to the state of things in 
and around the house, in order to make certain that no neg- 
ligence occurred still to endanger our security. At the end 
of that time, I returned to Guert, meeting Herman Mor- 
daunt near the door of his room. 

“ The little hope we had is vanished,” said the last, in a 
sorrowful tone. “ Poor Ten Eyck has, beyond a question, 
received his death-wound, and has but a few hours to live. 
Were my people safe, I would rather that everything at Ra- 
vensnest, house and estate, were destroyed, than had this 
happen !” 

Prepared by this announcement, I was not as much sur- 
prised as I might otherwise have been, at the great change 
that had occurred in my friend, since the time I quitted his 
room. It was evident he anticipated the result. Neverthe- 
less he was calm ; nay, apparently happy. Nor was he so 
much enfeebled as to prevent his speaking quite distinctly, 
and with sufficient ease. When the machine of life is stop- 
ped by the sudden disruption of a vital ligament, the ap- 
proaches of death, though more rapid than with disease, are 
seldom so apparent. The first evidences of a fatal termi- 
nation are discovered rather through the nature of the vio- 
lence, than by means of apparent effects. 

I have said that Guert seemed even happy, though death 
was so near. Anneke told me, subsequently, that Mary 
Wallace had owned her love, in answer to an earnest appeal 
on his part, and, from that moment, he had expressed him- 
self as one who was about to die contented. Poor Guert! 
It was little he thought of the dread future, or of the church 
on earth, except as the last was entitled to, and did receive 
on all occasions, his outward respect. It seemed that Mary 


442 SATANSTOE. 

vVallace, habitually so reserved and silent among her friends, 
had been accustomed to converse freely with Guert, and 
that she had made a serious effort, during her residence in 
Albany, to enlighten his mind, or rather to arouse his feel- 
ings on this all-important subject, and that Guert, sensible 
of the pleasure of receiving instruction from such a source, 
always listened with attention. When I entered the room, 
some allusion had just been made to this theme. 

“ But for you, Mary, I should be little better than a hea- 
then,” said Guert, holding the hand of his beloved, and 
scarce averting his eyes from their idol a single instant. 
“ If God has mercy on me, it will be on your account.” 

“ Oh ! no — no — no — Guert, say not, think not thus /” 
exclaimed Mary Wallace, shocked at this excess of his at- 
tachment even for herself at such a moment. “ We all re- 
ceive our pardons through the death and mediation of his 
Blessed Son. Nothing else can save you, or any of us, 
my dear, dear Guert; and I implore you not to think other- 
wise.” 

Guert looked a little bewildered ; still he looked pleased. 
The first expression was probably produced by his not ex- 
actly comprehending the nature of that mysterious expia- 
tion, which baffles the unaided powers of man, and which, 
indeed, is to be felt, rather than understood. The look of 
pleasure had its origin in the ‘ dear, dear Guert,’ and, more 
than that, in the consciousness of possessing the affections 
of the woman he had so long loved, almost against hope. 
Guert Ten Eyck was a man of bold and reckless charac- 
ter, in all that pertained to risks, frolic, and youthful adven- 
ture ; but the meekest Christian could scarcely possess a 
more lowly opinion of his own frailties and sins, than this 
dashing young fellow possessed of his own claims to be 
valued by such a being as Mary Wallace. I often wonder- 
ed how he ever presumed to love her, but suppose the appa- 
rent vanity must be ascribed to the resistless power of a pas- 
sion that is known to be the strongest of our nature. It was 
also a sort of moral anomaly that two so opposed to each 
other in character ; the one verging on extreme recklessness, 
the other pushing prudence almost to prudery ; the one so 
gay as to seem to live for frolic, the other quiet and reserved, 
should conceive this strong predilection for each other ; but 


SAT ANSTOE. 


443 


so it was. I have heard persons say, however, that these 
varieties in temperament awaken interest, and that they who 
have commenced with such dissimilarities, but have assimi- 
lated bv communion, attachment, and habits, after all, maka 
the happiest couples. 

Mary Wallace lost all her reserve, in the gush of tender- 
ness and sympathy, that now swept all before it. Through- 
out the whole of that morning, she hung about Guert, as the 
mother watches the ailing infant. If his thirst was to be 
assuaged, her hand held the cup; if his pillow was to be 
replaced, her care suggested the alteration ; if his brow was 
to be wiped, she performed that office for him, suffering no 
other to come between her and the object of her solicitude. 

There were moments when the manner in which Mary 
W allace hung over Guert, was infinitely touching. Anneke 
and I knew that her very soul yearned to lead his thoughts 
to dwell on the subject of the great change that was so near. 
Nevertheless, the tenderness of the woman was so much 
stronger than even the anxiety of the Christian, that we per- 
ceived she feared the influence on his wound. At length, 
happily for an anxiety that was beginning to be too painful 
for endurance, Guert spoke on the subject, himself. Whe- 
ther his mind adverted naturally to such a topic, or he per- 
ceived the solicitude of his gentle nurse, I could not say. 

“ I cannot stay with you long, Mary,” he said, “ and I 
should like to have Mr. Worden’s prayers, united to yours, 
offered up in my behalf. Corny will seek the Dominie, for 
an old friend ?” 

I vanished from the room, and was absent ten minutes. 
At the end of that time, Mr. Worden was ready in his sur- 
plice, and we went to the sick room. Certainly, our old 
pastor had not the way of manifesting the influence of reli- 
gion, that is usual to the colonies, especially to those of the 
more northern and eastern portion of the country ; yet, 
there was a heartiness in his manner of praying, at times, 
that almost persuaded me he was a good man. I will own, 
however, that Mr. Worden was one of those clergymen 
who could pray much more sincerely for certain persons, 
than for others. He was partial to poor Guert; and I really 
thought this was manifest in his accents, on this melancholy 
occasion. 


444 


SA'l’ANSTOE. 


The dying man was relieved by this attention to the rites 
of the church. Guert was not a metaphysician ; and, at no 
period of his life, I believe, did he ever enter very closely 
into the consideration of those fearful questions which were 
connected with his existence, origin, destination, and position, 
in the long scale of animated beings. He hid those general 
notions on these subjects, that all civilized men imhibe by 
education and communion with their fellows, but nothing 
more. He understood it was a duty to pray; and I make 
no doubt he fancied there were times and seasons in which 
this duty was more imperative than at others ; and times 
and seasons when it might be dispensed with. 

How tenderly and how anxiously did Mary Wallace 
watch over her patient, during the whole of that sad day! 
She seemed to know neither weariness nor fatigue. To- 
wards evening, it was just as the sun was tinging the sum- 
mits of the trees with its parting light, she came towards 
Anneke and myself, with a face that was slightly illumi- 
nated with something like a glow of pleasure, and whispered 
to us, that Guert was better. Within ten minutes of that 
moment, I approached the bed, and saw a slight movement 
of the patient’s hand, as if he desired me to come nearer. 

“Corny,” said Guert, in a low, languid voice — “it is 
nearly all over. I wish I could see Mary Wallace, once 
more, before I die !” 

Mary was not, could not be distant. She fell upon her 
knees, and clasped the yielding form of her lover to her 
heart. Nothing was said on either side; or, if aught were 
said, it was whispered, and was of a nature too sacred to be 
communicated to others. In that attitude did this young 
woman, long so coy and so difficult to decide, remain for 
near an hour, and in that quiet, cherishing, womanly em- 
brace, did Guert Ten Eyck breathe his last. 

I left the sufferer as much alone with the woman of his 
heart, as comported with prudence and a proper attention on 
my part; but it was my melancholy duty to close his eyes. 
Thus prematurely terminated the earthly career of as manly a 
spirit as ever dwelt in human form. That it had imperfections, 
my pen has not concealed ; but the long years that have 
since passed away, have not served to obliterate the regard 
so noble a temperament could not fail to awaken. 


S ATANSTOE. 


445 


CHAPTER XXX. 

How slow the day slides on ! When we desire 
Time’s haste, he seems to lose a match with lobsters : 

And when we wish him stay, he imps his wings 
With feathers plumed with thought. 

Albajuzab. 

It is unnecessary to dwell on the grief that we all felt for 
jur loss. That night was necessarily one of watchfulness 
but few were inclined to sleep. The return of light found 
us unmolested, however; and an hour or two later, Sus- 
quesus came in, and reported that the enemy had retreated 
towards Ticonderoga. There was nothing more to fear 
from that quarter, and the settlers soon began to return to 
their dwellings, or to such as remained. In the course of a 
week the axe again rang in the forest, and rude habitations 
began to reappear, in the places of those that had been de- 
stroyed. As Bulstrode could not well be removed, Herman 
Mordaunt determined to pass the remainder of the season at 
Ravensnest, with the double view of accommodating his 
guest, and of encouraging his settlers. The danger was 
known to be over for that summer at least, and, ere the ap- 
proach of another, it was hoped that the humiliated feelings 
of Great Britain would so far be aroused, as to drive the 
enemy from the province; as indeed was effectually done. 

On consultation, it was decided that the body of Guert 
ought to be sent, for interment among his friends, to Albany. 
Dirck and myself accompanied it, as the principal attendants, 
all that remained of our party going with us. Herman Mor- 
daunt thought it necessary to remain at Ravensnest, and 
Anneke would not quit her father. The Rev. Mr. Worden’s 
missionary zeal had, by this trial, effectually evaporated, and 
he profited by so favourable an occasion to withdraw into 
the safer and more peopled districts. I well remember as 
we marched after the horse-litter that carried the remains 
of poor Guert, the divine’s making the following sensible 
remarks : — 

“ You see how it is, on this frontier, Corny,” he said ; 
“ it is premature to think of introducing Christianity. Chris* 
38 


S AT ANSTOE . 


446 


tianity is essentially a civilized religion, and can only be of 
use among civilized beings. It is true, my young friend, 
that many of the early apostles were not learned, after the 
fashion of this world, but they were all thoroughly civilized. 
Palestine was a civilized country, and the Hebrews were a 
great people ; and I consider the precedent set by our bless- 
ed Lord is a command to be followed in all time, and that 
his appearance in Judea is tantamount to his saying to his 
apostles, ‘ go and preach me and my gospel to all civilized 
people.’ ” 

I ventured to remark that there was something like a 
direct command to preach it to all nations, to be found in 
the bible. 

“ Ay, that is true enough,” answered Mr. Worden, “ but 
it clearly means all civilized nations. Then, this was before 
the discovery of America, and it is fair enough to presume 
that the command referred solely to known nations. The 
texts of scripture are not to be strained, but are to be con- 
strued naturally, Corny, and this seems to me to be the na- 
tural reading of that passage. No, I have been rash and 
imprudent in pushing duty to exaggeration, and shall con- 
fine my labours to their proper sphere, during the remainder 
of my days. Civilization is just as much a means of provi- 
dence as religion itself; and it is clearly intended that one 
should be built on the other. A clergyman goes quite far 
enough from the centre of refinement, when he quits home 
to come into these colonies to preach the gospel ; letting 
alone these scalping devils the Indians, who, I greatly fear, 
were never born to be saved. It may do well enough to 
have societies to keep them in view, but a meeting in Lon- 
don is quite near enough ever to approach them.” 

Such, ever after, appeared to be the sentiments of the Rev. 
Mr. Worden, and I took no pains to change them. I ought, 
however, to have alluded to the parting with Anneke, before 
I gave the foregoing extract from the parson’s homily. 
Circumstances prevented my having much private commu- 
nication with my betrothed before quitting the Nest; for 
Anneke’s sympathy with Mary Wallace was too profound 
to permit her to think much, just then, of aught but the 
latter’s sorrows. As for Mary herself', the strength and 
depth of her attachment and grief were never fully appre- 



SATANSTOE. 


447 


ciated, until time came to vindicate them. Her seeming 
calm was soon restored, for it was only under a tempest of 
feeling that Mary Wallace lost her self-command ; and the 
affliction that was inevitable and irremediable, one of her 
regulated temperament and high principles, struggled to 
endure with Christian submission. It was only in after-life 
that I came to know how intense and absorbing had, in 
truth, been her passion for the gay, high-spirited, ill-edu- 
cated, and impulsive young Albanian. 

Anneke wept for a few minutes in my arms, a quarter of 
an hour before our melancholy procession quitted the Nest. 
The dear girl had no undue reserve with me ; though I found 
her a little reluctant to converse on the subject of our own 
loves, so soon after the fearful scenes we had just gone 
through. Still, she left me in no doubt on the all-important 
point of my carrying away with me her whole and entirely 
undivided heart. Bulstrode she never had, never could love. 
This she assured me, over and over again. He amused her, 
and she felt for him some of the affection and interest of 
kindred, but not the least of any other interest. Poor Bul- 
strode ! now I was certain of success, I had very magnani- 
mous sentiments in his behalf, and could give him credit for 
various good qualities that had been previously obscured in 
my eyes. Herman Mordaunt had requested nothing might 
be said to the major of my engagement ; though an early 
opportunity was to be taken by himself, to let the suitor 
understand that Anneke declined the honour of his hand. 
It was thought the information would best come from him. 

“ I shall be frank with you, Littlepage, and confess I have 
been very anxious for the union of my daughter and Mr. 
Bulstrode,” added Herman Mordaunt, in the interview we 
had before I left the Nest ; “ and I trust to your own good 
sense to account for it. I knew Bulstrode before I had any 
knowledge of yourself; and there was already a connection 
between us, that was just of a nature to render one that was 
closer, desirable. I shall not deny that I fancied Anneke 
fitted to adorn the station and circles to which Bulstrode 
would have carried her ; and, perhaps, it is a natural parental 
weakness to wish to see one’s child promoted. We talk of 
humility and contentment, Corny, though there is much of 
the nolo episcopari about it, after all. But you see that the 


448 


SATANSTOE. 


preference of the child is so much stronger than that of the 
parent, that it must prevail. I dare say, after all, you would 
much rather be Anneke’s choice, than be mine?” 

“ I can have no difficulty in admitting that, sir,” I an- 
swered ; “ and I feel very sensible of the liberal manner in 
which you yield your own preferences to our wishes. Cer- 
tainly, in the way of rank and fortune, I have little to offer, 
Mr. Mordaunt, as an offset to Mr. Bulstrode’s claims; but, 
in love for your daughter, and in an ardent desire to make 
her happy, I shall not yield to him, or any other man, 
though he were a king.” 

“ In the way of fortune, Littlepage, I have very few re- 
grets. As you are to live in this country, the joint means 
of the two families, which, some day, must centre in you 
and Anneke, will prove all-sufficient ; and, as for posterity, 
Ravensnest and Mooseridge will supply ample provisions. 
As the colony grows, your descendants will increase, and 
your means will increase with both. No, no; I may have 
been a little disappointed ; that much I will own ; but I ha^ 3 
not been, at any time, displeased. God bless you, then, m3 
dear boy ; write us from Albany, and come to us at Lilacs- 
bush in September. Your reception will be that of a son.” 

It is needless to dwell on the melancholy procession we 
formed through the woods. Dirck and myself kept near the 
body, on foot, until we reached the highway, when vehicles 
were provided for the common transportation. On reaching 
Albany, we delivered the remains of Guert to his relatives, 
and there was a suitable funeral given. The bricked closet 
behind the chimney, was opened, as usual, and the six dozen 
of Madeira, that had been placed in it twenty-four years 
before, or the day the poor fellow was christened, was found 
to be very excellent. I remember it was said generally, 
that better wine was drunk at the funeral of Guert Ten 
Eyck, than had been tasted at the obsequies of any indi- 
vidual who was not a Van Rensselaer, a Schuyler, or a Ten 
Broeck, within the memory of man. I now speak of funerals 
in Albany; for I do suppose the remark would scarcely apply 
to many other funerals, lower down the river. As a rule, 
however, very good wine was given at all our funerals. 

The Rev. Mr. Worden officiated, and was universally re- 
garded with interest, as a pious minister of the gospel, who 


SATANSTOE. 


449 

had barely escaped the fate of the person he was now com 
mitting ‘ dust to dust,’ while devotedly and ardently employ 
ed in endeavouring to rescue the souls of the very savages 
who sought his file, from the fate of the heathen. 

I remember there was a very well worded paragraph to 
this effect in the New York Gazette, and I had "heard it 
said, but do not remember to have ever seen it myself, that 
in one of the reports of the Society for the Promulgation 
of the Gospel in Foreign Parts, the circumstances were al- 
luded to in a very touching and edifying manner. 

Poor Guert ! I passed a few minutes at his grave before 
we went south. It was all that was left of his line person, 
his high spirit, his lion-hearted courage, his buoyant spirits, 
and his unextinguishable love of frolic. A finer physical 
man I never beheld, or one who better satisfied the eye, in 
all respects. That the noble tenement was not more intel- 
lectually occupied, was purely the consequence of a want 
of education. Notwithstanding, all the books in the world 
could not have converted Guert Ten Eyck into a Jason 
Newcome, or Jason Newcome into a Guert Ten Eyck. 
Each owed many of his peculiarities, doubtless, to the pro- 
vince in which he was bred and born, and to the training 
consequent on these accidents; but nature had also drawn 
broad distinctions between them. All the wildness of 
Guert’s impulses could not altogether destroy his feelings 
tone, and tact as a gentleman; while all the soaring, extra- 
vagant pretensions of Jason never could have ended in ele- 
vating him to that character. Alas ! Poor Guert ! I sin- 
cerely mourned his loss for years, nor has his memory yet 
ceased to have a deep interest with me. 

Dirck Follock and I would have been a good deal caressed 
at Albany, on our return, both on account of what had hap- 
pened, and on account of our Dutch connections, had we 
been in the mood to profit by the disposition of the people. 
But, we were not. The sad events with which we had been 
connected were still too recent to indulge in gaieties or com- 
pany ; and, as soon, as possible after the funeral, we seized 
the opportunity of embarking on board a sloop bound to New 
York. Our voyage was generally considered a prosperous 
one, lasting, indeed, only six days. We took the ground 
three times, it is true ; but nothing was thought of that, such 
38 * 


450 


SATAN STOE. 


accidents being of frequent occurrence. Among the events 
of this sort, one occurred in the Overslaugh, and I passed 
a few hours there very pleasantly, as it was so near the 
scene of our adventure on the river. Anneke always oc- 
cupied much of my thoughts, but pleasing pictures of her 
gentle decision, her implicit reliance on myself, her resigna- 
tion, her spirit, and her intelligence were now blended, with- 
out any alloy, in my recollections. The dear girl had 
confessed to me, that she loved me even on that fearful 
night, for her tenderness in my behalf dated much farther 
back. This was a great addition to the satisfaction with 
which I went over every incident and speech, in recollec- 
tion, endeavouring to recall the most minute tone or expres- 
sion, to see if I could noiv connect it with any sign of that 
passion, which I was authorized in believing did even then 
exist. Thus aided, equally by Anneke’s gentle, blushing 
admissions, and my own wishes, I had no difficulty in re- 
calling pictures that were infinitely agreeable to myself, 
though possibly not minutely accurate. 

In the Tappaan Sea, Dirck left us; proceeding into 
Rockland, to join his family. I continued on in the sloop, 
reaching port next day. My uncle and aunt Legge were 
delighted to see me, and I soon found I should be a lion, 
had I leisure to remain in town, in order to enjoy the noto- 
riety my connection with the northern expedition had cre- 
ated. 1 found a deep mortification pervading the capital, in 
consequence of our defeat, mingled with a high determina- 
tion to redeem our tarnished honour. 

Satanstoe, with all its endearing ties, however, called me 
away; and I left town, on horseback, leaving my effects to 
follow by the first good opportunity, the morning of the day 
succeeding that on which I had arrived. I shall not attempt 
to conceal one weakness. As usual, I stopped at Kings- 
bridge to dine and bait; and while the notable landlady 
was preparing my dinner, I ascended the heights to catch 
a distant view of Lilacsbush. There lay the pretty cottage- 
like dwelling, placed beneath its hill, amid a wilderness of 
shrubbery; but its lovely young mistress was far away, 
and I found the pleasure with which I gazed at it blended 
with regrets. 

“You have been north, I hear, Mr. Littlepage,” my land- 


SATANSTOE. 


451 


lady observed, while I was discussing her lamb, and peas 
and asparagus ; “ pray, sir, did you hear or see anything 
of our honoured neighbours, Herman Mordaunt and his 
charming daughter?” 

“ Much of both, Mrs. Light ; and that under trying 
circumstances. Mooseridge, my father’s property in that 
part of the province, is quite near to Ravensnest, Herman 
Mordaunt’s estate, and I have passed some time at it. Have 
no tidings of the family reached you, lately ?” 

“ None, unless it be the report that Miss Anneke will 
never return to us.” 

“ Anneke not return ! In the name of wonder, how do 
you hear this ?” 

“ Not as Miss Anneke, but as Lady Anneke, or some- 
thing of that sort. Isn’t there a General Bulstrom, or some 
great officer or other, who seeks her hand, and on whom 
she smiles, sir ?” 

“ I presume I understand you, now. Well, what do you 
learn of him ?” 

“ Only that they are to be married next month — some 
say they are married already, and that the old gentleman 
gives Lilacsbush, out and out, and four thousand pounds 
currency, down, in order to purchase so high an honour for 
his child. I tell the neighbours it is too much, Miss Anneke 
being worth any lord in England, on her own, sole, ac- 
count.” 

This intelligence did not disturb me, of course, for it was 
tavern-tidings and neighbours’ news. Neighbours! How 
much is that sacred word prostituted ! You shall find peo- 
ple opening their ears with avidity to the gossip of a neigh- 
bourhood, when nineteen times in twenty it is less entitled 
to credit than the intelligence which is obtained from a dis- 
tance, provided the latter come from persons of the same 
class in life as the individuals in question, and are known to 
them. What means had this woman of knowing the secrets 
of Herman Mordaunt’s family, that were one-half as good 
as those possessed by friends in Albany, for instance? This 
neighbourhood testimony, as it is called, does a vast deal 
of mischief in the province, and most especially in tljose 
parts of it where our own people are brought in contact 
with their fellow-subjects, from the more eastern colonies. 


452 


SATANSTOE. 


[n my eyes, Jason Newcome’s opinions of Herman ivtor- 
daunt, and his acts, would be nearly worthless, shrewd as 
I admit the man to be; for the two have not a distinctive 
opinion, custom, and I had almost said principle, in com- 
mon. Just appreciation of motives and acts can only pro- 
ceed from those who feel and think alike ; and this is mo- 
rally impossible where there exist broad distinctions in 
social classes. It is just for this reason that we attach so 
little importance to the ordinary reports, and even to the 
sworn evidence, of servants. 

Our reception at Satanstoe was just what might have been 
expected. My dear mother hugged me to her heart, again 
and again, and seemed never to be satisfied with feasting her 
eyes on me. My father was affected at seeing me, too ; and 
I thought there was a very decided moisture in his eyes. 
As for old Capt. Hugh Roger, three-score-and-ten had ex- 
hausted his fluids, pretty much ; but he shook me heartily 
by the hand, and listened to my account of the movements 
before Ty with all a soldier’s interest, and with somewhat 
of the fire of one who had served himself in more fortunate 
times. I had to fight my battles o’er and o’er again, as a 
matter of course, and to recount the tale of Ravensnest in 
all its details. We were at supper, when I concluded my 
most laboured narrative, and when I began to hope my 
duties, in this respect, were finally terminated. But my dear 
mother had heavier matters still, on her mind; and it was 
necessary that I should give her a private conference, in her 
own little room. 

“ Corny, my beloved child,” commenced this anxious and 
most tender parent, “ you have said nothing particular to 
me of the Mordaunts. It is now time to speak of that 
family.” 

“ Have I not told you, mother, how we met at Albany, 
and of what occurred on the river.” I had not spoken of 
that adventure in my letters, because I was uncertain of the 
true state of Anneke’s feelings, and did not wish to raise 
expectations that might never be realized. — “And of our 
going to Ravensnest in company, and of all that happened 
at Ravensnest after our return from Ty.” 

“ What is all this to me, child ! I wish to hear you speak 
of Anneke — is it true that she is going to be married ?” 


SATAN STOE . 


453 


4 It is true. I can affirm that much from her own mouth.’ 

My dear mother’s countenance fell, and I could hardly 
pursue my wicked equivoque any further. 

“And she has even had the effrontery to own this to you , 
Corny ?” 

“ She has, indeed ; though truth compels me to add, that 
she blushed a great deal while admitting it, and seemed only 
half-disposed to be so frank: that is, at first; for, in the 
end, she rather smiled than blushed.” 

“ Well, this amazes me 1 It is only a proof that vanity, 
and worldly rank, and worldly riches, stand higher in the 
estimation of Anneke Mordaunt, than excellence and modest 
merit.” 

“ What riches and worldly rank have I, mother, to tempt 
any woman to forget the qualities you have mentioned?” 

“ I was not thinking of you, my son, in that sense, at all. 
Of course, I mean Mr. Bulstrode.” 

“ What has Mr. Bulstrode to do with my marriage with 
Anne Mordaunt ; or any one else but her own sweet self, 
who has consented to become my wife ; her father, who 
accepts me for a son, my father, who is about to imitate his 
example, by taking Anneke to his heart as a daughter, and 
you, my dearest, dearest mother, who are the only person 
likely to raise obstacles, as you are now doing.” 

This was a boyish mode of producing a most delightful 
surprise, I am very ready to acknowledge ; and, when I 
saw my mother burst into tears, I felt both regret and shame 
at having practised it. But youth is the season of folly, 
and happy is the man who can say he has never trifled more 
seriously with the feelings of a parent. I was soon par- 
doned — what offence would not that devoted mother have 
pardoned her only child ! — when I was made to relate all 
that was proper to be told, of what had passed between An- 
neke and myself. It is scarcely necessary to say, I was 
assured of the cheerful acquiescence in my wishes, of all 
my own family, from Capt. Hugh Roger, down to the dear 
person who was speaking. They had set their minds on 
my becoming the husband of this very young lady ; and I 
could not possibly have made any communication that would 
be more agreeable, as I was given to understand from each 
and all, that very night. 


454 SATANSTOE. 

Mv return to Satanstoe occurred in the last half of the 
month of July. The Mordaunts were not to be at Lilacs- 
bush until the middle of September, and I had near two 
months to wait for that happy moment. This time was 
passed as well as it could be. I endeavoured to interest 
myself in the old Neck, and to plan schemes of future hap- 
piness there, that were to be realized in Anneke’s society. 
It was and is a noble farm ; rich, beautifully placed, having 
water on more than three of its sides, in capital order, and 
well stocked with such apples, peaches, apricots, plums, and 
other fruits, as the world can scarcely equal. It is true that 
the provinces a little further south, such as New Jersey, 
Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia, think they can beat 
us in peaches ; but I have never tasted any fruit that I thought 
would compare with that of Satanstoe. I love every tree, 
wall, knoll, swell, meadow, and hummock about the old 
place. One thing distresses me. I love old names, such as 
my father knew the same places by ; and I like to mispro- 
nounce a word, when custom and association render the 
practice familiar. I would not call my friend, Dirck Fol- 
lock, anything else but Pollock, unless it might be in a 
formal way, or when asking him to drink a glass of wine 
with me, for a great deal. So it is with Satanstoe ; the 
name is homely, I am willing to allow ; but it is strong, and 
conveys an idea. It relates also to the usages and notions 
of the country; and names ought always to be preserved, 
except in those few instances in which there are good rea- 
sons for altering them. I regret to say, that ever since the 
appearance of Jason Newcome among us, there has been a 
disposition among the ignorant and vulgar, to call the Neck, 
Dibbleton ; under the pretence I have already mentioned, 
that it once belonged to the family of Dibblees ; or, as some 
think, as a pious diminutive of Devil’s-Town. I indignantly 
repel this supposition; though, I do believe, that Dibbleton 
is only a sneaking mode of pronouncing Devilton ; as, I 
admit, I have heard the old people laughingly term the Neck. 
This belongs to the “ Gaul darn ye” school, and it is not to 
my taste. I say the ignorant and vulgar, for this is just the 
class to be squeamish on such subjects. I have been told — 
though I cannot say that I have heard it myself — but I am 
told, there have been people from the eastward among us of 
19 * 


8ATANSTOE. 


455 


iate years, who affect to call “ Hell-Gate,” “ Hurl-Gate,” or 
14 Whirl-Gate,” or by some other such sentimental, whirl-a- 
gig name ; and these are the gentry who would wish to alter 
“ Satanstoe” into “ Dibbleton !” Since the eastern troops 
have begun to come among us, indeed, they have commenced 
a desperate inroad on many of our old, venerated Dutch 
names; names that the English, direct from home, have 
generally respected. Indeed, change — change in all things, 
seems to be the besetting passion of these people. We, of 
New York, are content to do as our ancestors have done 
before us ; and this they ridicule, making it matter of accu- 
sation against us, that we follow the notions of our fathers. 
I shall never complain that they are deserting so many of 
tlieir customs ; for, I regard the changes as improvements ; 
but I beg that they may leave us ours. 

That there is such a thing as improvement I am willing 
enough to admit, as well as that it not only compels, but 
excuses changes ; but, I am yet to learn it is matter of just 
reproach that a man follows in the footsteps of those who 
have gone before him. The apothegms of David, and the 
wisdom of Solomon, are just as much apothegms and wis- 
dom, in our own time, as they were the day they were 
written, and for precisely the same reason — their truth. 
Where there is so much stability in morals, there must be 
permanent principles, and something surely is worthy to be 
saved from the wreck of the past. I doubt if all this craving 
for change has not more of selfishness in it than either of 
expediency or of philosophy ; and I could wish, at least, 
that Satanstoe should never be frittered away into so sneak- 
ing a substitute as Dibbleton. 

That was a joyful day, when a servant in Herman Mor- 
daunt’s livery rode in upon our lawn, and handed me a 
letter from his master, informing me of the safe arrival of 
he family, and inviting me to ride over next day in time to 
jake a late breakfast at Lilacsbush. Anneke had written 
to me twice previously to this ; two beautifully expressed, 
feminine, yet spirited, affectionate letters, in which the ten- 
derness and sensibility of her nature were barely restrained 
by the delicacy of her sex and situation. On the receipt of 
ihis welcome invitation, I was guilty of the only piece of 
romantic extravagance that I can remember having com 


SATANSTOfi. 


45t> 

mitted in the course of my life. Herman Mordaunt^s black 
was well treated, and dismissed with a letter of acceptance. 
One hour after he left Satanstoe — I do love that venerable 
name, and hope all the Yankees in Christendom will not be 
able to alter it to Dibbleton — but, one hour after the negro 
was off, 1 followed him myself, intending to sleep at the 
well-known inn at Kingsbridge, and not present myself at 
the Bush, until the proper hour next morning. 

I had got to the house of the talkative landlady two hours 
before sunset, put up my horse, secured my lodgings, and 
was eating a bite myself, when the good housewife entered 
the room. 

“Your servant, Mr. Littlepage,” commenced this loqua- 
cious person ; “ how are the venerable Captain Hugh Roger, 
and the Major, your honoured father? Well, I see by your 
smile. Well, it is a comfortable thing to have our friends 
enjoy good health — my own poor man enjoyed most wretched 
health all last winter, and is likely to enjoy very much the 
same, that which is coming. I should think you had come 
to the wedding at Lilacsbush, Mr. Corny, had you not stopped 
at my door, instead of going on direct to that of Herman 
Mordaunt.” 

I started, but supposed that the news of what was to 
happen had leaked out, and that this good woman, whose 
ears were always open, had got hold of a neighbourhood- 
truth , for once in her life. 

“ I am on no such errand, Mrs. Light, but hope to be 
married, one of these days, to some one or other.” 

“ I was not thinking of your marriage, sir, but that of 
Miss Anneke, over at the ’Bush, to this Lord Bulstrom. It’s 
a great connection for the Mordaunts, after all, though Her- 
man Mordaunt is of good blo^d, himself, they tell me. The 
knight’s man often comes here, to taste new cider, which he 
admits is as good as English cider, and I believe it is the 
only thing which he has found in the colonies that he thinks 
is one-half as good ; but Thomas tells me all is settled, and 
that the wedding must take place right soon. It has only 
been put off on account of Miss Wallace, who is in deep 
mourning for her own husband, having lost him within the 
honey-moon, which is the reason she still bears her own 
name. They tell me a widow who loses her husband in 


SATANSTOB. 


457 


♦ 


the honey-moon is obliged to bear her maiden name ; other- 
wise Miss Mary would be Mrs. Van Goort, or something 
like that.” 

As it was very clear the neighbourhood knew little about 
the true state of things in Herman Mordaunt’s family, I took 
my hat and proceeded to execute the intention with which 
I had left home. I was sorry to hear that Bulstrode was at 
Lilacsbush, but had no apprehension of his ever marrying 
Anneke. I took the way to the heights, and soon reached 
the field where I had once met the ladies, on horseback. 
There, seated under a tree, I saw Bulstrode alone, and ap- 
parently in deep contemplation. It was no part of my plan 
to be seen, or to have my presence known, and I was re- 
tiring, when I heard my name, discovered that I was recog- 
nised, and joined him. 

The first glance at Bulstrode showed me that he knew 
the truth. He coloured, bit his lips, forced a smile, and 
came forward to meet me, limping just enough to add in 
♦erest to his gait, and offered his hand with a frank manli- 
ness that gave him great merit in my eyes. It was no trifle 
to lose Anne Mordaunt, and I am afraid I could not have 
manifested half so much magnanimity. But, Bulstrode was 
a man of the world, and he knew how to command the ex- 
hibition of his feelings, if not to command the feelings them- 
selves. 

“ I told you, once, Corny,” he said, offering his hand, 
“ that we must remain friends, coute qui coute — you have 
been successful, and I have failed. Herman Mordaunt told 
me the melancholy fact before we left Albany ; and I can 
tell you, his regrets were not so very flattering to you. 
Nevertheless, he admits you are a capital fellow, and that 
if it were not for Alexander, he could wish to be Diogenes. 
So you have only to provide yourself with a lantern and a 
tub, marry Anneke, and set up housekeeping. As for the 
honest man, I propose saving you some trouble, by offering 
myself in that character, even before you light your wick. 
Come, take a seat on this bench, and let us chat.” 

There was something a little forced in all this, it is true, 
but it was manly. I took the seat, and Bulstrode went on. 

“ It was the river that made your fortune, Corny, and 
undid me.” 


39 


458 


SATANSTOE. 


I smiled, but said nothing ; though I knew better. 

“ There is a fate in love, as in war. Well, I am as well 
off as Abercrombie ; we both expected to be victorious, while 
each is conquered. I am more fortunate, indeed ; for he can 
never expect to get another army, while I may get another 
wife. I wish you would be frank with me, and confess to 
what you particularly ascribe your own success.” 

“ It is natural, Mr. Bulstrode, that a young woman should 
prefer to live in her own country, to living in a strange 
land, and among strangers.” 

“Ay, Corny, that is both patriotic and modest ; but it is 
not the real reason. No, sir ; it was Scrub, and the thea- 
tricals, by which I have been undone. With most provin- 
cials, Mr. Littlepage, it is a sufficient apology for anything, 
that the metropolis approves. So it is with you colonists, in 
general ; let England say yes, and you dare not say, no. 
There is one thing, that persons who live so far from home, 
seldom learn ; and it is this : There are two sorts of great 
worlds ; the great vulgar world, which includes all but the 
very best in taste, principles, and manners, whether it be in 
a capital or a country ; and the great respectable world, 
which, infinitely less numerous, contains the judicious, the 
instructed, the intelligent, and, on some questions, the good. 
Now, the first form fashion ; whereas the last produce some- 
thing far better and more enduring than fashion. Fashion 
often stands rebuked, in the presence of the last class, small 
as it ever is, numerically. Very high rank, very finished 
tastes, very strong judgments, and very correct principles, 
all unite, more or less, to make up this class. One, or more 
of these qualities may be wanting, perhaps, but the union 
of the whole forms the perfection of the character. We 
have daily examples of this at home, as well as elsewhere ; 
though, in our artificial state of society it requires more de- 
cided qualities to resist the influence of fashion, when there 
is not positive, social rank to sustain it, perhaps, than it 
w M in one more natural. That which first struck me, 
in Anneke, as is the case with most young men, was her 
delicacy of appearance, and her beauty. This I will not 
deny. In this respect, your American women have quite 
taken me by surprise. In England, we are so accustomed 
to associate a certain delicacy of person and air, with high 


8 AT ANSTOE. 


459 


\ 


rank, that, I will confess, I landed in New York with no 
expectation of meeting a single female, in the whole country, 
that was not comparatively coarse, and what we are accus- 
tomed to consider common, in physique ; yet, I must now 
say that, apart from mere conventional finish, I find quite as 
large a proportion of aristocratical-looking females among 
you, as if you had a full share of dutchesses. The last 
thing I should think of calling an American woman, would 
be coarse. She may want manner, in one sense ; she may 
want finish, in a dozen things ; she may, and often does, 
want utterance, as utterance is understood among the ac- 
complished ; but she is seldom, indeed, coarse or vulgar, 
according to our European understanding of the terms.” 

“And of what is all this apropos , Bulstrode?” 

“ Oh ! of your success, and my defeat, of course, Corny,’ 
answered the major, smiling. “What I mean, is this — 
that Anneke is one of your second class, or is better than 
what fashion can make her ; and Scrub has been the means 
of my undoing. She does not care for fashion, in a play, 
or a novel, or a dress even, but looks for the proprieties. 
Yes, Scrub has proved my undoing !” 

I did not exactly believe the last ; but, finding Bulstrode 
so well disposed to give his rejection this turn, it was not 
my part to contradict him. We talked together half an 
hour longer, in the most amicable manner, when we parted ; 
Bulstrode promising not to betray the secret of my presence. 

I lingered in sight of the house until evening, when I 
ventured nearer, hoping to get a glimpse of Anneke as she 
passed some window, or appeared, by the soft light of the 
moon, under the piazza that skirted the south front of the 
building. Lilacsbush deserved its name, being a perfect 
wilderness of shrubbery ; and, favoured by the last, I had 
got quite near the house, when I heard light footsteps on the 
gravel of an adjacent walk. At the next instant, soft, low 
voices met my ears, and I was a sort of compelled auditor 
of what followed. 

“ No, Anne, my fate is sealed for this world,” said Mary 
Wallace, “ and I shall live Guert’s widow as faithfully and 
devotedly, as if the marriage-vow had been pronounced. 
This much is due to his memory, on account of the heart- 
less doubts I permitted to influence me, and which drove 


460 


SAT ANSTOE. 


him into those terrible scenes that destroyed him. When a 
woman really loves, Anneke, it is vain to struggle against 
anything but positive unworthiness, I fear. Poor Guert was 
not unworthy in any sense ; he was erring and impulsive, 
but not unworthy. No— no — not unworthy ! I ought to 
have given him my hand, and he would have been spared 
to us. As it is, I can only live his widow in secret, and in 
love. You have done well, dearest Anneke, in being so 
frank with Corny Littlepage, and in avowing that prefer- 
ence which you have felt almost from the first day of your 
acquaintance.” 

Although this was music to my ears, honour would not 
suffer me to hear more, and I moved swiftly away, stirring 
the bushes in a way to apprize the speaker of the proximity 
of a stranger. It was necessary to appear, and I endea* 
voured so to do, without creating any alarm. 

“ It must be Mr. Bulstroae,” said the gentle voice of An- 
neke, “ who is probably looking for us — see, there he comes, 
and we will meet ” 

The dear speaker became tongue-tied ; for, by this time, 
I was near enough to be recognised. At the next instant, 
I held her in my arms. Mary Wallace disappeared, how 
or when, I cannot say. I place a veil over the happy hour 
that succeeded, leaving the old to draw on their experience 
for its pictures, and the young to live in hope. At the end 
of that time, by Anneke’s persuasion, I entered the house, 
and had to brave Herman Mordaunt’s disposition to rally 
me. I was not only mercifully, but hospitably treated, how- 
ever, Anneke’s father merely laughing at my little adven- 
ture, saying, that he looked upon it favourably, and as a 
sign that I was a youth of spirit. 

Early in October we were married, the Rev. Mr. Worden 
performing the ceremony. Our home was to beLilacsbush, 
which Herman Mordaunt conveyed to me the same day, 
leaving it, as it was furnished, entirely in my hands. He 
also gave me my wife’s mother’s fortune, a respectable in- 
dependence, and the death of Capt. Hugh Roger, soon after, 
added considerably to my means. We made but one fam* 
ily, between town, Lilacsbush, and Satanstoe, Anneke and 
my mother, in particular, conceiving a strong affection for 
each other 


SATAN Sl'OE . 


461 


As for Bulstrode, he went home before the marriage, but 
keeps up a correspondence with us to this hour. He is still 
single, and is a declared old bachelor. His letters, however, 
are too light-hearted to leave us any concern on the subject ; 
though these are matters that may fall to the share of my 
con Mordaunt, should he ever have the grace to continut 
this family narrative. 


THE END. 


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